#started writing this in the notes of someone else's shit and i was like ok get a room | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blublublujk · 7 months

Text

good girl, gone bad

oneshot

word count: 6k

genre: established (secret) relationship

pairing: good girl y/n x bad boy jk

summary:

“I can’t believe anyone actually likes those stupid fucks. I mean, the hickeys, it’s like he wants everyone to know he actually fucks.” You stay staring just a tad longer at the buff (sexy) jock, short enough so that Karina won’t notice. This time the boy proudly parading the trail of hickeys down his neck smiles at you and parts with a quick wave, some blonde hair boy from the group laughs at him and shakes his arm teasingly. You can’t help but to smile too, it’s barely there, but he’ll know. You decide to turn around and follow her steps. “Yeah totally, me either.” What your best friend doesn’t know won’t kill her… right?

warnings: basically just pwp but plot went missing (oops!), swearing, smoker jk (i swear if anyone complains in my inbox i'll haunt you), explicit sexual content; jk has a huge dick ok, consensual recording/pictures, car sex (don't fuck in a car), hickeys, unprotected vaginal sex, dirty talk, spanking, squirting, breast play, blowjob, fingering, cunnilingus, come shot (on face), slut shaming (again lol), come tasting/swallowing, stomach bulge (my fault i love this one), choking, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie

a.n: sorry for a late update hope yall dont mind, but i just wanna get rid of all my drafts they are PILING. lol forgive me for only always writing about jungkook, but he's so easy to write about. he breathes, and i instantly open my notes app (im not even joking). this has been sitting in my drafts since his LA trip (iykyk) it sparked a conversation and i wrote it. i want that man bad... and im lesbian :D

ANYWAYS enjoy and STREAM GOLDEN for our golden bunny <3

p.s: i'll probably come back to this couple but its a oneshot for now... but wouldn't no nut nov be fun with this jk?? everyone say yesss. ok bye.

—> m.list

—> welcome me on ao3 & twt

—-

“Ugh, what a piece of shit.”

Before you even get to ask who, the motorcycle roars back to life across the parking structure belonging to the very one and only, Jeon Jungkook. A group of college jocks crowd around the man. There’s a cigarette between his fingers, he’s not paying it much attention though. He's deep in conversation, laughing at something one of them said, clearly more invested in the joke than anything else around him.

As the laughter dies down, he looks over, eyes connecting while he brings the cigarette to his pierced lip, slowly inhaling the toxic fume. The terribly annoying (yet somehow sexy) tattooed jock on his loud motorcycle winks towards your direction, before selfishly exhaling that poisonous smoke into the air. Fuck, you really, really wanted to hate him too.

“Yuck.” Karina gags with a scrunch to her nose, turning a cold back to them and you’re grateful to her because you almost get stuck in his lustful gaze.

“Yeah… yuck.” You reply with no real meaning somehow managing to convince her you meant it.

“I hate him and his stupid friends. They are killing the Earth slowly and they don’t even give a fuck!” Karina argues in all her given glory and in her environmental science major mindset. “Plus those cancer sticks reek, why must the general public suffer because they can’t last thirty without them.”

Jungkook could last thirty without them. Way more than thirty when you were around him, especially when he was given something (or someone) to entertain himself with, but you couldn't say that aloud so the sudden thoughts stayed safe and sound in your head.

“No, no they don’t. But what can we do?” There’s a sigh and then you clear your throat. “Should we get going now?”

Your arm wraps around hers, gesturing the way back to campus with a swift wave where you both had been meaning to study given that classes finally started cramping in heavy assignments.

“Yes, please.” Karina is quick to sharply turn her heel and walk back towards the building. “I can’t believe anyone actually likes those stupid fucks. I mean, the hickeys, it’s like he wants everyone to know he actually fucks.”

You stay staring just a tad longer at the buff (sexy) jock, short enough so that Karina won’t notice. This time the boy proudly parading the trail of hickeys down his neck smiles at you and parts with a quick wave, some blonde hair boy from the group laughs at him and shakes his arm teasingly. You can’t help but to smile too, it’s barely there, but he’ll know. You decide to turn around and follow her steps. “Yeah totally, me either.”

What your best friend doesn’t know won’t kill her… right?

—-

“You taste disgusting.” There’s a muffled laugh pressed into your lips, as your tongues meet halfway, meeting each other’s lips in a bruising wet kiss. Your ass grinds roughly against his lap, groaning into your mouth while you bring your ass flush down, feeling his soft cock harden below you. His right hand grips your right ass cheek, jiggling it in his hand, before smacking it (with love, of course!).

“Yeah?” Jungkook smirks, bringing his mouth against your throat, sucking and licking everywhere there was space. He sneakily leaves little love bites behind even though he knows you’ll kill him for this later because you have somewhere to be after this. He even bites your ear lobe gently between his teeth, before he cockily whispers. “You love it though.”

The whimper that leaves your mouth should be illegal. It only drives Jungkook crazier.

Both hands find purchase on your ass now, spanking you once again in each cheek. Though Jungkook was a bit disappointed he wasn’t seeing your flushed bare cheeks on top of him, but he guesses he can settle for now. “You gonna let me fuck you now baby?”

He gropes your asscheeks without any hesitation, still leaving wet kisses buzzing onto your skin, stealing a quick kiss from your raw-bitten lips.

“Mm, only if you ask nicely.” You tease, dragging a finger along his jawline.

With this, Jungkook laughs, throwing his head back. Your hand comes to fist his hair, while he drops another wet smooch onto your lips. “You know I’d do anything for a piece of this ass angel.”

You smile into the kiss, grinding harder against his now– hard cock. You felt your folds leak of your own arousal. It was so undeniable. The attraction between you two, the desire to take each other apart, to be within each other’s arms. There was no place like Jungkook’s lap. Here you could stay forever.

“Imagine what people would say if they saw you like this baby.” Jungkook starts teasing, tugging your shirt off with no trouble. Your breasts catch his attention, noticing that you are wearing that black lingerie set he had bought for you last Valentine’s Day. “Fuck. Look at you baby.”

He squishes your breasts together, leaning up to kiss the uncovered tender flesh on both sides. You don’t even attempt to hold your moans back. “I– nghhh.”

“Did you expect to get fucked today princess? Hmm? Is this all for me?” Jungkook’s words work like magic, they drip off his sinful tongue like honey. You bring your body flush against his, burying your blushing face against his neck. “Don’t get shy on me baby, tell me. Did you wear this all for me?”

He purrs sweetly and you only nod, cheeks burning red.

It's not like you were embarrassed of him, no in fact, you were happy to announce that the college campus’ certified bad boy is all yours and has been for the past two years.

There was no exact moment to this, the attraction had always been there.

You had first officially met Jungkook in one of your general ed classes. Statistics, to be exact, which he would have one-hundred percent failed had it not been for you passing him the answers mid exams. It wasn’t like that to begin with of course, it took you some convincing. To be fair and to your excuse, it was so hard to say no to those beautiful big brown eyes.

At first, you assumed he was doing this all, acting lost and playing dumb, to get into your pants which he succeeded. However you had enough dignity left to make him work for it. Until you realized those secret smiles, stolen glances, and subtle hand holds were much more than just a silly game. You had fallen for his charm, and against everyone’s advice to stay far away from him, you fell in love with the (not so terrible) bad boy and let him take over your heart completely. It happened so randomly and so all at once. It was confusing, new, but most of all, liberating.

Being with Jungkook was so freeing and the thrill of being caught with him was so worth it. It didn’t matter what people thought of you or him, you both were willing to die on this hill of love.

Jungkook, too, had fallen quickly. How could he not? There was nothing to dislike and everything to love. Your pouty scolds, he looked forward to. The stolen glances across campus were his favorite, a secret only you and him held close to heart. There were times where your cheeks would flush pink, because he would steal kisses from you behind the campus library. You were seriously his favorite person ever.

“Jungkook stop! What if someone sees us?” You would whisper-shout, a pout would form against your will.

Jungkook would just kiss your worries away again and again and then say. “You’re the cutest little thing alive baby.”

“Are you trying to change the subject?” It was hard to speak between kisses, that and the fact that he would squish your cheeks together like the adorable boyfriend he was.

“I don’t know. Is it working?” His reply was cheeky and lips would start trailing down your neck and then you determined, yes. Yes, it is working. Fuck it all.

It’s safe to say, he was yours since the start of it all, as you were his. Wrapped in each other’s fingers before anyone had realized it, now you were inseparable.

“Answer me princess.” Jungkook pulls you back gently, observing your flushed face. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

Of course, this only makes you blush harder, but you do manage to admit. “Y-Yes… I wore this only for you. Always for you.”

Jungkook smiles, pecking your cheek. “Then I’m the luckiest man alive angel.”

He cradles your face, before leaning in to kiss you. This time, you guys take your time. Your mouths stay closed, taking the time to really feel the plushy feeling against your own and enjoy each other’s presence. You felt as if you were floating in clouds.

“Jungkook.” You mumble onto his lips and he hums, but that’s not enough so you call his name once more with intent. “Jungkook.”

He pulls back with a questioning look. “Yes, my love?”

“Can you please just fuck me already?” The words come out barely above a whisper, even after fucking you so many times, you could be so shy at times.

Jungkook breaks out into a bunny-like grin, holding back a stifled laugh. “So much for wanting to make me say please, look at who’s pleading now.”

“J-Jungkook…” Your face goes hot again and he laughs once more, patting your ass softly.

“Okay. Okay, my love. Enough teasing, I’ll fuck you since you asked so nicely baby.” Jungkook takes his sweet time taking off his own shirt, and pulling your skirt off. It was a bit tricker, given you were both in your car which was not fit for two people even in the backseat, but you guys always made it work.

You were still scared to ride to campus with him as much as he begged you to because it would blow your secret relationship, but fucking on campus has yet to be off-limits. Mainly because Jungkook fucks you all too well, and you aren’t one to say no to good dick (oops).

He attaches his mouth right above the bare skin of your left breast. He holds your tits in his hands, pushing them together, stuffing his face right between them. Jungkook makes sure to pay attention to both breasts (it’s only fair), rubbing your hard buds through the black lace which hardly covers them. You bite back a moan, feeling him rut up against your heat, his hard length pressing stiffly against you, your walls already clenching, desperate to feel him inside you.

His tattooed hand slips below, releasing the nipple he had been tugging on earlier. You feel the tip of his fingertips brush against your panties. “Fuck, you’re so wet baby. I can’t wait to be inside you.”

Surely by now, you were dripping onto the lace. His erection is still pressing against your inner thigh. “D-Don’t wait then.”

Your boyfriend smiles, bringing his lips to yours. “Behave. You’ll get some dick inside you soon.”

Like the brat you were, your eyes rolled back so used to being spoiled. He pays it no mind though because his tongue comes out again, licking your lips apart. Your tongues meet once more, this time you suck his tongue into your mouth, brushing it against the roof of your mouth. He taste quite bitter, it’s the cigarette from earlier, yet somehow and against all judgement, he tastes fucking delicious. Especially when a grunt slips from his throat, feeling you roll your barely covered folds against his fingers.

He allows this, putting more pressure with two fingers, feeling you drench his fingertips even through your panties. Jungkook pushes his tongue deeper into your mouth, spit mixing as he reciprocates the favor, sucking gently on your tongue. You tasted like the strawberries you had earlier for lunch and Jungkook groans, greedily swallowing the taste in your mouth.

What an innocent sweet little thing you were and he was about to ruin you all.

Cigarettes and strawberries.

Quite the pair.

You whine into his mouth, unable to hold back much longer. “Please, Jungkook…”

He smirks against your mouth. How much he loved the way you fell apart on his cock. Especially more, when he had barely had his hands on you and you were already begging for more. Jungkook pulls back, but not before you whine a soft “no.” He holds your cheeks in his palms, forcing you to look directly into his hazy eyes.

“Imagine if people knew baby.” His voice comes out more sultry, rough around the edges. His thumb carrasses your cheek, patting your mouth open. “How much of a slut you were for this dick.”

His words make you mewl (he knows how much you get off to this thought), he slowly eases two fingers into your mouth, holding your chin in place. You made sure to suck on them as he liked, your tongue coming flat against them.

Jungkook bucks his hips into yours, chest rising while he watches you suck, like the good girl you were. “Imagine if they really knew, baby? Such a sweet girl like you, with someone so dangerous and reckless like me. What would they say? Hmm?”

He pulls out his fingers, seeing them barely glisten under the light.

“I- I don’t know.” Your voice is dry and soft yet, you are incredibly horny.

“You don’t know? I have a few ideas.” Jungkook chuckles, hands brushing along your back. “Can this come off?”

He tugs your bra from behind and you hesitate to nod permission. “Good, I wanna watch them bounce when I finally fuck you.”

By now, you have given up resisting him, so you moan pathetically as he shreds your bra with ease and takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking the tender bud into his tongue, flicking it and placing it between his teeth. He tugs and licks the sting away, watching with hooded eyes as you squirm against him. Your face burns imagining the idea.

What if people knew? How would your friends react? They would surely be disappointed, Jungkook was good for nothing but trouble. Yet, he was perfect to you. You were willing to defend him from hell and back. Whatever it took for them to believe you.

Jungkook moves to the other bud, placing it into his mouth, cupping and gripping your breasts. His mouth was hot and heavy against your nipple, his tongue caressing the hard bud. He squeezes them one last time before letting them drop, watching them bounce gently against your chest. Yup, Jungkook was the luckiest man alive. There was nothing better than this moment right here.

Heat travels your body quickly, feeling your own chest rise, struggling to breathe in the steamy car. Your boyfriend looks down, communicating with his eyes instead of actually saying anything, your hands quickly move to his belt, tugging them off and throwing it anywhere else. Desperately, you unbuckle his jeans, harshly pulling his boxer down, just enough to watch his dick spring out. The flushed, wet length smacks against his stomach, watching as his abs clench at the sensation. If you stare any longer, you’ll start drooling. “So good for me angel.”

There’s no time to waste.

“Wanna suck you off.” You breathe out, voice filled with desire and lust, clearly it takes over because usually his girlfriend was much shyer and timid, but that all disappeared when Jungkook’s cock was present.

“Yeah?” Jungkook watches you drop on your knees, your pretty knees will for sure suffer the consequences of your horny choice, but there was no stopping this. He pats his thighs as he leans back to give you enough space. “I’m all yours, baby girl.”

Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek when he feels your warm mouth wrap around his dick. Your tongue comes out messily, practically salivating and dripping all over him. There’s probably not a single day that goes by that you aren’t sucking his dick, but it was quite the experience every damn time.

“F-Fuck, I wish you could see yourself.” He struggles a bit because the sight is fucking sinful and if people knew you like he did, they wouldn’t believe the person in front of him.

His personal little cockslut.

You pop off for a second, hand still wrapped around his length covered in your spit. “Yeah? Then take a picture for me, Kook.”

Double fuck.

When you first started dating Jungkook, you were against any pictures at all. After time passed and to his luck, you came around and you would let him take pictures, but only if he promised your face wasn’t in the frame. Now, his camera roll is covered with images of you and your blooming relationship. You didn’t care anymore about covering or blurring your face out. His camera roll consisted of just about everything, pictures of you sleeping peacefully against his chest as you would nap, videos of you laughing on the random adventures he would take you on, but never images of you nude. Never ever was he allowed anything that could probably incriminate you both, even if he would beg, ever-so sweetly. It seems like you came around after all. Bless you.

“Fuck, don’t talk to me like that princess, you have no idea what that does to me.” He’s never heard you sound so fucking sexy. Jungkook bites his lip, recovering his phone that had dropped earlier on the carpet. “You sure about this baby?”

“Yes.” Then you are back on his cock and he shudders, already snapping a few pictures. Your eyes looked up at the camera, making a show out of it all.

Jungkook tries controlling his heavy breathing but with a sinful tongue like yours, it’s impossible. “Can I record this princess, only if you’ll let me, of course.”

You take him deeper into your throat and nod furiously on his cock. You trusted him enough, you knew Jungkook could never hurt a single soul, unless they tried him. Point is, he would never do anything to break that trust so hell yeah, why not add more to his long collection.

“God, you are so perfect baby. Made for me and only me.” Jungkook’s voice is nothing short of possessiveness. He presses record, caressing your hair softly, almost petting you for your work like the good girl you were for him. “Imagine if they knew how well you take cock baby. How perfect those plump lips look around my dick. You’re like a dream come true princess, my personal cockslut.”

You moan around his length, loving the bitter taste on your tongue and Jungkook has to hold back from fucking your throat, though he thinks you’ll love it anyways.

“Can I fuck your throat?” His voice is raspy and you open your mouth wider, nodding so prettily with dick stuffed in your mouth. Jungkook is careful when placing your hair in a little makeshift ponytail for the meantime and as best as he can with one hand as he starts to thrust into your warm mouth. “So beautiful and all mine. Isn’t that right princess?”

You don’t get to reply, but the vibrations of your moans that manage to run through his cock answer for you and it almost makes him smile. What a good girl you were. Pretty things like you deserved to be spoiled and he couldn’t wait to give you the fucking world.

And was he fucking loving the show you were putting on for him becoming more needy and desperate on camera, your eyes rolled as he brutally used your throat for his liking.

Jungkook bites at his bottom lip as he begins to roll his hips with much more force, feeling your throat take him down with greed. “Fuck baby, your throat feels amazing. Taking me so good.”

He lets you go when he feels you tap his thigh and you gasp for air, tears threatening to leak down your face. “W-Want you to come on my face.”

Your voice is hoarse and his eyes widen at your sweet request.

“Aren’t you just perfect for me today baby. Just you wait, you’ll get the best dick of your entire lifetime.” Not that you would know since he was your first and he knows that, proudly carries that in his cocky ego, but you always believed him. No one could fuck you better than this, you were sure. You bat your eyes at his promise and he comes down to kiss you messily, the camera records jackshit, but it captures your whiny moans and the sound of your lips smacking against one another. He pulls off with one last kiss and adjusts the camera frame back towards you as he takes his hard length and slaps his swollen, wet dick along your cheek. “Open up princess, I’m really fucking close.”

You take him in with no hesitation and go to fucking work. Slurping and licking all over his length, your chin dripping with saliva, but you don’t even care anymore because his grunts and whines keep you going.

Every now and then you look up at the camera making sure you do your best to keep him coming back. You know he will probably rewatch this every night that you aren’t there with him. And your predictions are correct because Jungkook’s already planning on watching this tonight and jacking off to it while you are out with Karina doing God knows what. All he knows is his sweet girl will be doing something productive while he’ll be coming undone in your gracious honor.

“I’m close baby.” He groans sexily, and his breathing starts to become sharp. “Look up baby, right into the camera, gonna come all over that perfect fucking face.”

Doing as he says, you look up sucking him dry, your hands come to relieve what you can’t cover with your tongue. His hand pushes you off for a second. “Tongue out baby.”

He fucks his fist and it doesn’t take long before he squirts his load all over your face, grateful that most of it lands on your tongue, you swallow it all immediately, humming gracefully at the salty taste.

Jungkook’s eyes are blown out as he catches his breath and lets his dick flop back down against his thigh, you look like a fucking sin and he must be the Devil because he’s about to commit about thirty tonight. “Give me a second princess.”

He says between breaths as he stops recording with one last picture of your come-soiled face, still breathing heavily as he throws his phone on the floor again, thankful that he has something for later. You giggle against him and he almost awes as you throw your head against his bare thighs into a laughing fit. “Okay.”

He huffs a dry laugh and pulls you up. “Times up. Come here.”

Jungkook is quick to capture you in a sloppy kiss, not minding the leftover mess of come on your face, he doesn’t wanna mess up his masterpiece just yet. You soon grow desperate in his arms, but this time he doesn’t mess around.

“Lay down.” Your bare back lands on the seats and he shoves himself between your thighs. Again, it’s steamy and fucking cramped in your car, but you both couldn’t care any less right now.

His tongue hits your slit not bothering to move your matching panties, but the effect is almost the same. He licks a long strip watching you soil the silky lace mixing his spit with your own arousal.

You moan sweetly as your legs come apart letting him completely devour your heat. Jungkook pulls off, tugging your spoiled little black panties to the side and continues on with his mission. His tongue finds your clit and you swear you could come like this.

“R-Right there. Please.” Your boyfriend doesn’t let up either, eating your sweet pussy like it deserves. His tongue flicks your bud, building the sensation in your tummy. Jungkook sucks on your clit selfishly.

His chin is covered in your arousal. He’s humming and moaning deep inside your pussy, your juices stick onto his tongue like candy and he greedily swallows the treat whole.

“B-Baby.” Your voice is struggling like his was earlier, but it’s there. He lifts his face from your heat, eyes in a lust-filled trance. Jungkook knows he’s pussy-whipped, but at least he admits his problems!

“Yes, my baby.” Jungkook’s eyes are blown out and he looks just as wrecked as you are.

“C-Can I take a picture?” He almost gapes at your request, the amount of times you took him by surprise today. At this point, he would let you do anything, fuck his morality!

“Do whatever you want princess. Pictures, videos. I’m all yours.” He gives you his full consent and permission to do anything so you are quick to grab his phone (you’ll send them over to yourself later) and start snapping pictures while he dives back in for seconds.

Jungkook keeps your legs open while you are a whimpering mess above him, struggling to get the best picture. You have no idea how he was doing this himself, the pictures come out blurry as he continues to devour you as if it was his last meal.

He also puts on a show for the camera like you did so nicely earlier for him. Jungkoook’s eyes hood as he stares up, he even winks for the shot. If college didn’t ever work out for either of you, this would be something to look into. Good thing that was not the case, at least for you, his little straight A student.

“I’m g-gonna come.” This only makes your boyfriend go crazier between your folds. He drops eye-contact with the camera and instead solely focuses on that pretty pussy presented for him. Jungkook’s tongue is sin itself, not letting up once as more arousal drips out of you. He slowly teases a finger inside, building your orgasm quickly as he fucks you open with his middle finger. “I’m– nghh. Fuh-fuck!”

The sentence is never finished as you start to squirt onto his tongue, creating your own little masterpiece on his face. Jungkook has never swallowed anything down faster than right now and he’s loving every second of it. Completely pussy-whipped and all, but at least he’s happy!

Your boyfriend finally detaches himself from your heat and the sight is nearly adorable. His hair is now all fucked up and he’s a sticky mess everywhere (you are sure you look no better).

“Yum, I could do that all day.” Jungkook shamelessly says.

“Mm, I’m sure.” You say coming down from your own orgasm, he gives you a few seconds to breathe as you set his phone down again. Jungkook takes his shirt from the floor and wipes himself clean. He does the same but it’s no use, the come that landed on your face has dried up and he doesn’t wanna scrub it off and end up hurting your precious face.

Jungkook kisses your cheek affectionately as an apology.

“There’s dry come on my face right?” You start to scold him, but he smiles with all his teeth apologetically and you forgive him at that moment.

“Guilty.” He smirks, proud of his work, he thinks you truly haven't looked better.

Wrapping arms and legs around your boyfriend you whisper innocently. “I was promised dick of a lifetime, unless… unless you lied to me?”

Jungkook scrunches his nose cutely while he looks at your perfect pouty face, doe-eyes begging to be fucked. “I never lie, not to you at least.”

He makes you laugh and he detangles your legs from his waist. “Now let me focus, I have a reputation to uphold.”

There’s no laughing once two fingers press into you and you gasp at the invading feeling, but the stretch only burns for a while before it turns into pleasure and you are whimpering at his touch. “Fingers so deep.”

He smiles and you throw your head back. “Yeah? My dick goes even deeper baby, I’m just making sure you can take it.”

“I can take it.” You breathe out against his pink lips. “I was made for you.”

The taller’s eyes nearly eat you alive, fuck you were so sexy. “That you were baby. My perfect little cockslut.”

His fingers pull out of you brutally and you whine, but he kisses you roughly making you forget the loss. A hand wraps around your throat, squeezing it with purpose. You squirm in his hands and he pops off your lips.

Fingers coated with your arousal trace your lips and you take them in greedily, sucking your own juices off the tattooed fingers, moaning at the delicate taste, his other hand still locked around your throat.

“That’s my girl. All fucking mine.” You nod around his fingers and he finally lets go, gasping for fresh air. “‘M gonna fuck you now baby.”

Your legs fly open in response, letting him have his way with you.

“Do me a favor?” He asks while taking his hard length in his hand, jerking himself off while he awaits your response.

“What?” You hum, confusion written all over your face.

“Record this for me. I want you to see how I break you apart. How this pretty pussy makes a mess all over my dick. I want you to remember this fuck for the rest of your life.” His voice drops a few octaves and you can’t help but gasp and moan at his vulgar use of words.

You used to be innocent, at least, that’s what Jungkook used to think. In a way, he thinks you still are. Untouched and pure, only for his eyes and his hands to touch. Jungkook is honored that he was your first, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. He was gentle and took care of you every step of the way. It was like that until you were begging and pleading for more. Sweet then, and sweet now.

He’s created a little monster, but he knows that your heart is pure and that’s what he loves most about you.

“Okay, yes.” His phone is back in your hands and you click record, watching him line-up his cock. Jungkook groans as he disappears snuggly inside you. “Mmm.”

He lets you get used to the feeling and once he feels your breathing stabilize he starts to thrust himself with strong strokes inside you.

Like the first time, you are struggling with the phone because you can’t stop shivering and shaking, you feel him in your guts and recording is much harder than pictures because it lasts longer and you can't stay still for that long. Not with dick inside you.

“K-Kook. I— oh.” You stop to moan when he hits your g-spot and he continues ramming that same spot over and over. “I- I can’t. Hand’s shaking.”

Your sweet boyfriend grabs the phone and lets you settle yourself. “That’s okay princess, I got you. Just lay there, I’ll take care of you.”

He records himself ramming into you for a few minutes, watching himself disappear into you on camera. The taller one can't even believe this is his reality. How did this even happen and most of all with him of all people? He truly was the luckiest man alive!

“‘S deep, Kook.” He fondles one of your breasts as he keeps a harsh pace, rubbing the hard nub with his thumb.

“Yeah baby? Tell me where you feel it.” He whispers loving the way you tremble, your gaze struggling to keep up with his.

“Right here.” You touch right below your belly, palm flat against the feeling of his cock inside you. “So so deep.”

You mumble something else, but he doesn’t get to hear it because your high pitched moans drown everything out. He lets go of your breast watching them bounce as he continues to pound straight into your sweet spot.

The camera catches it all though. The mess between your thighs look just as delicious on film as they do in real time. The sounds you make, the squelching noise that is being created by his cock going deep inside you, and most of all, it captures your beautiful face as it comes apart.

He presses on your stomach right where your own palm rests and you strangle out a whine. “I- I can’t. T-Too much.”

“You can take it. Remember?” His dick tears through you from the inside and you start yelling when he increases his pace. He’s fucking you mercilessly now and you can’t control the sounds that escape. “You were made for me, princess.”

“Yes, yes, I am.” You sound beautiful, but you would kill him if you guys got caught now especially in the position you guys are in.

His firm hand finally comes off your stomach and instead two fingers go inside your mouth, muffling your screams and whines.

The car rocks back and forth. He’s sure people know what the fuck is going on, the windows are foggy as fuck, for fuck’s sake, but you would hate him much worse for not finishing you off.

“Mmff, don— stopff.” He nearly giggles as you struggle to speak, but he keeps his promise quite well. He fucks you ever harder and deeper, his cock will surely fall off after this, but it’s all worth it. He slams inside, bottoming out fully before pulling out and repeating the same steps. “Fuhh-uk.”

“You like that baby?” Jungkook rasps feeling you squeeze tightly around him, which only means one thing, you are really fucking close. “Gonna come all over my cock princess?”

“Mmff.” You are quick to nod and hum sweetly. He decides to pull his fingers out, spit dripping all over. “Yes, yes. Please, don’t stop. Harder Kook- ah!”

Jungkook almost forgets he’s recording and he centers the camera again, wanting to capture every last second of this. You are glistening all over, he’s made a complete mess of you, but he is no better. Jungkook is dripping sweat and yet, that doesn’t stop his mean and precise strokes against your velvet walls, stretching you in ways you didn’t even know were possible.

The final straw is when you feel his messy fingers start toying with your clit and you are coming once again all over your back seats and wetting his cock just how he likes it. Being a squirter had its own perks with a boyfriend like Jungkook because that meant he never stopped fucking you until you completely had nothing more to give.

Jungkook curses when he starts to see your orgasm trinkle out, he fucks you all through it though, feeling the water-like pressure against his slit. And it doesn’t take long before an orgasm catches up to him.

“Inside.” You plead with a pout, eyes completely blown out.

With one last curse Jungkook comes deep inside your walls. He catches his breath for a few moments before pulling out slowly, making sure to capture the dribble of his come which sadly hangs onto your hole. “Push it out for me princess.”

“Nooo, we’re gonna make a mess Kook.” Jungkook shakes his head, a smile on his face because a mess has already been made.

“I’ll clean it. Now, push it out baby.” You almost cover your face because you are sure you turned red, but you start to push his seed out of your hole and he’s tempted to fuck it back inside.

“Fuck. That’s it baby. Perfect comeslut. Isn’t that right?” He stops recording once he’s gotten the shot he wanted and he starts to wipe you down with his shirt, lucky enough that he has a back-up hoodie to cover him after he’s done.

“Yes, all yours.”

You both smile against each other’s lips before he whispers. “I love you princess.”

“I love you more.”

“Impossible baby.”

—-

JK❤️: hiiii 🙂

me: hi baby :) everything okay?

JK❤️: marvelous 😇 i just came watching that video we took earlier ;))

me: baby! 😠 i'm out with karina! can you not talk about sex for two seconds while im out

JK❤️: sure! just came all over myself totally wasn't watching our sextape back ;)))

me: nice talk jungkook.

JK❤️: come home soon~~ i miss you :((((

me: love you too lol

JK❤️: not more than me. come home soon im serious!!!

me: i'll see you later jungkook. ❤️

JK❤️: 😠😠😠

me: ❤️❤️❤️

#jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook smut #bts jungkook #bts x y/n #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you

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foreingersgod · 2 months

Note

Can you write a CC x country reader that has a heavy accent, like Texas or smth and how it makes people react to it?

this is such a cute idea, i decided to put my own little twist on it so i hope you like it!

Texas Twang . CC

pairing: caitlin clark x reader

synopsis: you were born and raised on a texas farm, eventually moving away for college where you met caitlin. here’s a list of 5 times she’s fallen in love with you and your accent

A/N: #5 is a wee bit spicy (trying to feed ya’ll as per request) so please skip it if you’re uncomfortable with that!

also i got these sayings off of google cause i dont know any texas slang or how to convey the reader having an accent so sorry if they’re literally not real 😭

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

1. when you first met

you were panicked, running around your small room trying to find your stupid fucking phone. you were already running 5 minutes behind, the clock on the wall told you, but you wouldn’t be able to find your first class of the morning regardless if you didn’t find your phone. checking under your heap of blankets, in the drawers of your desk, and even in your laundry basket, you found nothing.

then, after throwing every book out of your backpack as a last resort, you saw it laying below discarded orientation papers and sticky notes. with a sigh of relief, you snatched your phone and sprinted out of your building.

you were running at full speed, which was a little embarrassing considering every one else on campus was just walking normally. but you were extremely behind and would be so mad if you were late to your first class at this school. so you continued to weave through people. you dodged campaigners, sped through large groups on the lawns, probably knocking down a few people in the process.

your sprinting seemed to pay off when you noticed the building up ahead. you glanced at the time, seeing you still had a few minutes to make it if you really hurried. your legs ached as you continued to speed walk past bypassers.

then, without notice, you ran right into someone passing by. the force of your impact causing the both of you to fall to the ground in the middle of the quad. if you weren’t late already, you surely would have been now.

“shit” you heard the other person cuss under their breath. you looked up, still planted on the ground, to the person in front of you.

she was an insanely attractive woman. lean, about 6 foot, muscular, just your type you might add. she was pushing herself off of the concrete side walk, brushing the gravel from her pants. you followed suit, standing up then apologizing profusely for running into her.

“oh my hell, i’m so sorry” you exclaimed “i was goin’ way too fast, i apologize”

she gave you a crooked smile, shaking her head.

“no you’re ok, it happens, i should’ve been paying attention”

“no, really ‘s my bad”

her face twisted ever so slightly as you talked “you’re not from around here are you?” she blurted “sorry, that’s completely irrelevant, i just noticed the accent”

you laughed, this wasn’t the first time someone was confused by the heaviness of your accent “it’s fine, i don’t mind. yea, no i’m from a small town in texas, i moved up here for college recently”

“oh really? that’s cool” she smiled, extending her hand to you “well, i’m caitlin by the way”

“i’m YN” you returned her handshake “ ‘s so nice to meet you, but i’m runnin’ late for class”

“wait” she stopped you before you ran past her “do you think i could grab your number, maybe i could take you out sometime?”

you were all smiles “i’d like that, i’d like that very much”

2. your first argument

you don’t even know how it started. all you knew is that some girl was getting flirty at the bar and, according to your girlfriend, you were letting her seduce you. this was obviously not true. you and caitlin hadn’t been dating that long, but it has going really well and she’s incredibly important to you. important enough that you wouldn’t just be flirting with other women at the bar.

nonetheless, you were being dragged out of the bar. caitlin was oozing jealousy as you headed back to your place for the night.

“she was all over you, YN” caitlin sneered, following you into your apartment and slamming the door.

“oh my god, she wasn’t!” you rolled your eyes “good lord, arguing with you ‘s like tryna piss up a god damn rope”

“what?”

“what do you mean what?” your accent was thick, rolling off your tongue.

“what the hell does ‘pissing up a rope’ mean?” she looked at you confused, dropping the girl from the bar entirely.

you looked at her equally confused “you don’t say that here?”

“uh no, i think that’s a you thing” she said “your texas slang is distracting me and it’s making it very hard to be mad at you right now”

you chuckled, kissing her cheek “ ‘s just my southern charm, baby”

3. when you sing in the car

caitlin hated country music for the most part. but when you came along, you made it your duty to get her to enjoy it at least a little bit. she had never been subjected to small farm country music and to you, that was a sin.

so you’d play it for her on occasion, if she let you. and surprisingly it was pretty often. she would never tell you, but she only put up with country music just to hear you sing it. she was completely mesmerized by the way your accent mixed with the tune of the songs.

one day you were in the car together, on the way home from a get together with friends. it was a warm summer evening, sun on the brink of setting causing the sky to glow shades of orange and pink. cait was driving, per usual, you being her honorary passenger princess. she rolled down all the windows for you (even the sunroof) just how you liked it. you loved feeling the hot summer breeze blow through your hair with the radio turned all the way up.

“you follow me, and lead me on..” you hummed lightly, ‘all your’n by tyler childers sounding through the car radio.

she snuck glances at you as she drove down the empty street, watching how you let your arms hang out with window and let the wind fan over your face.

“so ill love you till my lungs give out” you closed your eyes, lost in the moment “i ain’t lying’”

caitlin so desperately wanted to pull over and listen to you sing all night long. your voice was like a gift from the gods. the way your accent slurred with each word had her melting in the drivers seat.

“i’m all your’n” you looked over to caitlin, smiling “ ‘n you’re all mine”

she smiled back, reaching across the console and resting her hand on your thigh.

she let you play your music the rest of the way home, just wanting to listen to you sing for a little bit longer.

4. when you met her family

you had waited months to meet caitlin’s family. no really, families were your thing. growing up in texas, it was common to be in or surrounded by a big family. and you knew big families more than anyone else, having 9 siblings, you being the middle child. it was a setting you thrived it and you tended to get along with people pretty well.

caitlin was hesitant to introduce you, she was freshly out of the closet and had never brought a girl home before. but this thanksgiving, she thought it was the perfect time to introduce you.

“so, YN” caitlin’s mother asked from across the table. “i’m sure you’re not used to such a small family, caitlin told me you come from quite the family tree?”

caitlin’s hand found your knee under the table, squeezing it lightly for comfort.

“oh yea,” you chuckled “my mama had a whole litter with 9 ‘a us. it was always crazy around the house, with 5 brothers n 3 sisters. and my daddy wasn’t around to help out off’n, but that’s a whole ‘nutter can a worms”

the way her family reacted to your voice made caitlin laugh under her breath, watching how they slowly dissected your sentence trying to make out the words from beneath the accent. she thought it was cute, lucky to have such a unique and special girl.

even the way you interacted with her younger cousins had her fawning over you, you were just so sweet and gentle.

“hiya, sweetie” you smiled as caitlin’s baby cousin accidentally fell into you “took a bit of a spill there didn’t ‘cha?”

you were the perfect picture of a warm welcome, full of beauty and grace and kindness. caitlin knew, from this moment, you’d be in her life forever.

SPICE AHEAD

5. during sex

she’d be lying if she said that damned accent didn’t get her riled up. because truly, it had her wet the second you started talking.

when she would have you pressed up against the wall, one leg wrapped around her torso as she kissed down your collarbone and onto your cleavage. the way you would moan “oh darlin’” oh so sweetly in her ear had her going crazy.

the rare instances in which you would take the lead in bed, watching as you crawled atop of her, stripping her bare. how you would hook your fingers under her underwear, tugging them down her long and toned legs. she was already bucking her hips into nothing. then you’d fasten your arms under her thighs, pulling them apart to place delicate kisses along the insides of her legs.

you’d tease her a bit more before dropping your head low, hot breath fanning against her glistening cunt. she bit her lip, trying to suppress moans of pleasure, and you had hardly touched her yet. you took your time with her, tongue dragging deliciously against her, savoring the taste.

“well you’re just sweeter than cherry pie, aren’t ‘cha baby” you’d praise, having her arching under your touch. with that, she couldn’t hold her moans any longer, completely coming undone as you continued to treasure every inch of her body.

you were going to be the death of her.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

A/N: alright guys i tried to make it a little spicier, so feedback is much appreciated cause i honestly feel like it sucked lol

#caitlin clark x reader #wcbb #caitlin clark #wcbb x reader #iowa wbb

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carakook · 2 months

Text

Bloom. °˖✧✿✧˖°

“Yeah? You think we’re done? We’re not done.”

→ Chapters list ←

⚘6. Planting the Wrong Seed

🔞For Mature Audiences Only🔞

╔══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╗

⚘Pairings: Jeon Jungkook x fem!reader

⚘Synopsis: You prepare to go to the potluck with Seojoon but find that your day is not going the way that you planned, thanks to a certain someone lingering in your thoughts… if only you knew the shit that was going to unfold.

⚘Genre:Forbidden love

⚘Word count: 12k+

⚘Warnings: 18+ for mature audiences only, MDNI, emotional, mentions of anxiety, mentions of sex, heavy kissing, angst, CANINE POETRY I REPEAT CANINE POETRY, religious metaphors (the story is not religious but makes references to a higher power, karma, fate, etc.), mentions of anxiety, mentions of nightmares, subtle arguing, jealousy, bullying? (Sort of, there’s a bitch in this chapter who makes cunty comments), mentions of alcohol, mentions of cooking (I know this is triggering for some people), heavy tension, cheating, mentions of cheating, mentions of falling out of love/breaking up. Let me know if I miss anything!

⚘Disclaimer: This story in no way reflects the characters of those who are mentioned. It is pure fiction and for entertainment purposes only. Please don’t take it seriously. Nothing is real in this story.

⚘A/N: Chapter 6 is out! I really hope you enjoy it. Please don’t be mad at me. 😀 lol I told you it gets dramatic. I can’t wait to keep writing, shit gets soooo messy but also some very important lessons get learned. DON’T CHEAT AND DON’T BE AFRAID TO LOVE WHO YOU LOVE OK!!! Also, men are stupid sometimes. 🥴 ok love you!!!

╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ :

♪Glimpse of Us - Joji

♪Bad Habit - Steve Lacy

♪Miss Understood - DPR Ian

♪Hopelessly Devoted To You - Olivia Newton-John (this one is VERY important)

♪Cop Car - Mitski

♪I Bet On Losing Dogs - Mitski (again)

♪Love Me Again - V

♪I LOVE YOU HOE - Odetari Ft. 9lives

✧━。゜✿ฺ✿ฺ゜。━✧

Unfortunately for you, when you wake up after your not-so-peaceful slumber, you have this feeling deep down in your gut that something bad will happen today.

You wake up sometime the next morning, a bit delirious at first because you didn’t get as deep of a sleep as you normally would have. Seojoon is gone already, which isn’t abnormal. He works early mornings so often times he’s gone before you even wake. And in typical Seojoon fashion, he left a little note and cup of coffee that he picked up for you at the convenience store across the street before he left.

You pick up the note and your coffee, take a sip as you read it;

Went to work, text me when you wake up, and don’t forget about tonight.

-Seojoon, aka your boyfriend :)

The usual note he leaves… except the sign off leaves you feeling a bit off. Because normally, it’s just his name. But this time, he added the joking ‘boyfriend’ to it. This should be considered a cute gesture, because he basically is your fucking boyfriend.

But it doesn’t feel cute. Not after the amount of times he talked about being not-boyfriend-girlfriend last night. In fact, as you stare at the note, you realize he is starting to seem bit persistent about it, but its so subtle that you didn't catch it until now.

Maybe he’s getting tired of waiting… it’s been months, so you can't blame him. But also, you can’t help how you feel, and you don’t really feel ready to add the label. So simple for most people, but for you… it’s not simple at all.

It’s like planting a fucking seed, and you aren’t sure if you want him to plant that seed yet.

You aren’t sure if you want to plant his seed, or anyone else's ever again.

It’s too early for this shit, so you decide not to overthink it. You’re off of work today, and you have to figure out what the fuck to cook for this potluck full of people you don’t know. You’re nervous enough as it is, you don’t need to overthink some silly little note your not-boyfriend left. He was probably just being playful.

You’ve become very good at denying things… pretending that you're fine when you really aren't fine. Something you haven’t realized yet.

So you get up and get yourself ready for the day. You do your skincare, brush your hair, brush your teeth, drink your coffee… a normal day, just like any other.

But you begin to realize that the feeling from last night, the same one that you went to bed with and woke up with, it lingers. That little zap feeling you felt when you dreamt, and when he left, that feeling impending doom that you can't quite shake, it's still very much there.

It’s like a little fluttering in your stomach. Something between butterflies and worms, maybe. Subtle, but there. It could be because you dreamt of him again, because you’re meeting Seojoon's friends, or because he has started bringing up making it official all of a sudden… or maybe your gut is trying to tell you something.

Nah, anxiety, surely. Not denial, not intuition… it's just a bad case of anxiety that was triggered by a bad dream. You're sure of it.

After getting yourself dressed and putting on some light makeup, you know you need to calm your shit if tonight is going to go well and be enjoyable for you and everyone else. So you make a little list of ingredients you need to cook something nice for his friends. A way to a man’s heart is food, as they say, it’ll be a nice gesture that you add to the potluck. You decide to cook two things since Seojoon probably won't have time to make something to bring himself. You'll make something sweet and something savory; chocolate chip cookies, a crowd fav, and classic American mac and cheese, because everyone loves cheese. Both things are easy to make, and you’re sure everyone will like them because they’re simple classics.

You’re totally not subconsciously making flower boys past favs. You’re totally not still thinking about him or that dream. You're absolutely-positively-totally not doing little things that remind you of him… not at all.

After you make your list, you grab your bag and wallet, send Seojoon a little text letting him know you’re awake and preparing for tonight. You know he was probably waiting on it, and he was waiting for it. He was actually anticipating you trying to make an excuse not to go tonight, so he feels a bit giddy knowing you’re actually putting not bailing on him. That's my girl, he thinks to himself when he reads the text.

The rest of your day sort of melds together. You do your best to stay on track, even as you pass the floral department at the grocery store. You linger there, looking at the array of autumn flowers that are bright, warm, and blooming... You also look at the array of wilting bouquets that are marked down in price, on sale because no one wants them...

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you reach down and graze the tip of one of the flowers petals. Your heart pounds so hard you swear it might break through your chest, because although it seems like such a simple and curious touch, it isn’t. You’re afraid that just like in the dream, the petals will start turning brown and dry, and the flowers on the shelf will start dying. You’re afraid that your touch is indeed poison.

But nothing happens. They merely stay in place as they did before you touched them, they don’t die any faster, but they don’t stop wilting either. These flowers are neutral to you, and your touch isn’t poisonous as you suspected it may be… not to them, anyway.

You aren’t thinking of him. Not today. You can’t. You won’t. You don’t know why it’s so hard all of a sudden after months of working on yourself, but today of all days cannot be the day that you start reliving memories and asking yourself what if I stayed?

And even though you tell yourself you won’t think of him today, you buy one of the wilting bouquets. Because you feel bad for the flowers that no one seems to want. You feel like you relate to them in some fucked up metaphorical way, or did in the past, at least. You wonder if you can nourish them and nurture them to health, much like you did a certain Bearded Iris many months ago.

Dangerous thoughts for a girl who swore she was moving on and healing just fine.

After you’re done at the grocery store, you make your way back home. You make sure to blare music as soon as you walk in the door to prevent your thoughts from becoming too loud, and you very carefully avoid any love songs that seem to try to make an appearance.

You get to work making the cookie dough, following the ‘secret’ recipe you’ve known since you were a teenager. It’s very rich, contains lots of butter and sugar, probably not the healthiest choice, but every time you make them people go crazy for them. You even won a baking competition back in school using this recipe.

If only they knew this was a recipe on the Betty Crocker website.

You mix the ingredients with familiar motions and fill up several baking pans full of little nuggets of dough. Once every pan is full and there's no dough left, you start baking two sheet pans full at a time because your oven can't fit anymore than that.

You try to ignore the memories that surface when you smell them baking.

“Please Y/N, just a little taste, bet you taste sweeter than these cookies… I need to test it, for science n’ shit.”

“No, you’ll get sick! It has raw eggs. Also isn’t that cannibalism? Kookie eating cookies?”

No. Stop. Fuck.

You make quick work of the mac and cheese after every sheet pan of cookies is finished baking. You let the cookies cool as you boil the elbow noodles and make the creamy cheese sauce, which thank god calls for intense focus, otherwise it’ll burn or become too thick and clumpy.

The mac and cheese recipe is pretty simple, it just requires your full attention up until the last step. This is a recipe you learned online as well, and so far every time you make it everyone loves it, even those who don't really like cheese.

One person specifically was very overdramatic about loving it the first time you made it for him.

“Fuuuck. I should marry you. If I marry you can I have this every day?”

“I am NOT marrying you, dummy. And you’d get diabetes. Do you know how much cheese is in here?”

“Don’t care, blah blah blah, marry me and make me this shit every single day.”

Back when times were simpler, before you knew of him being married. You wonder what would have happened if you played along, said you would marry him and make him mac and cheese every day for the rest of your lives... Should’ve accepted his offer.

You start to become irritated. Because this hasn’t happened in months. You’ve coped, you’ve moved on, you have a not-boyfriend now and you’re supposed to be thriving. Before last night, Jungkook was not consuming you anymore... whereas today, you cannot fucking shake him.

That’s what you thought, that this shit was done. Did one nightmare really fuck it all up? Or is it something deeper?

It doesn’t help that the persistent feeling in your gut continues to linger. It won’t go away and it’s fucking annoying. Like a goddamn fly. Maybe it isn’t butterflies, but a bunch of fucking flies fluttering around in your stomach making you feel nauseous and uneasy. So disgusting.

The zaps never fully went away. In the beginning, after the night he left, it was like it continued to happen after the first time. You’d have panic attacks and feel these zaps in your chest, which Sohee witnessed a few times and told you was normal when having when dealing with loss and change mixed with anxiety She recommended you see someone professional about it, but you didn’t take her advice. It was heartbreak, not a fucking psychotic break…

Ok, maybe almost a psychotic break, but it never got to that point. And with time, the zaps went away for the most part. Just like the lingering feelings he left behind. It all dimmed down to a very dull buzz that was barely noticeable.

Until today. Until last night. Until he decided to invade your dreams again like a fucking intruder.

You shake your head at yourself. Because this is fucking ridiculous. He isn’t here, he isn’t coming back, and you’re supposed to be fucking over it. For fucks sake, you’re making junk food for your new mans friends. You need to get a grip.

Ignore it. Deny it until it goes the fuck away and you forget about it. Maybe if you pretend, you won't even notice it by the time you need to leave tonight.

You finish up the mac and cheese and put it in a large casserole dish, top it with even more cheese and your garlic butter bread crumbs, and then pop it into the oven on medium heat to get all gooey inside and crispy on top. While it bakes, you pack up the cookies in a portable Tupperware container. Now all you have to do is get yourself ready.

You hope like hell you can make yourself look as good as the food, because the dark circles under your eyes are prominent even under the makeup you put on today. This is why you need your goddamn beauty sleep.

While the mac and cheese finishes baking, you fuss over an outfit in your room. It’s a potluck, so you're sure it's casual… but you don’t want to dress too up or down. Normally, you don’t really overthink these things... but again, your nerves are wrecked today. So everything feels worse than what it really is. You're overthinking things far more than normal.

After making your room a damn mess and covering the floor in failed outfits, you decide on wearing a simple floral dress that doesn’t show too much skin, but is still fun. The base color is a deep red, speckled with little white flowers all over. It’s chilly outside due to the changing seasons, so you pair it with some thick thigh high socks and boots. And of course you need a jacket.

A certain jacket that you’ve told everyone you bought for yourself as a treat, but what they can’t see is that it’s covered in an invisible purple and white floral pattern, too.

You touch up your makeup, do it as you always do, and decide to leave your hair down, but pack a hair tie in your bag just in case. You check the clock, and it’s right around 6:30 pm so you know Seojoon is showing up soon, probably in the next thirty minutes or so. You're surprised at how fast time flew today, but also thankful that its nearly over.

Fuck. You feel sick.

After doing one last onceover of yourself, you walk into the kitchen, only to freeze when you see Seojoon is already here… that damn spare key. Maybe it was a bit fast moving to give him your spare key... You were just so used to someone else having it, so you didn't think twice before offering it to Seojoon.

Funny how you gave him a spare key to your apartment but won’t be his fucking girlfriend yet.

He must have gotten off of work early today, because normally he’d be here around seven after going home to check on Simba and change out of his work clothes, but judging by his casual attire, he’s already done all of that. You’re unsure as to why he didn’t text you and let you know… or, fuck, maybe he did and you just didn’t notice. You haven’t exactly been paying attention to your phone thanks to the thoughts plaguing you tonight. You've been all over the place. You’re surprised he didn’t immediately seek you out, but then you see the look on his face… and he doesn’t look very happy.

“Secret admirer?”

He arches a brow that is disguised as playful, but the twitch in his jaw gives him away. At first, you’re confused… until you see his fingers dancing around the petals of the forgotten, wilting, bouquet of flowers that you bought at the grocery store.

You have no fucking clue what comes over you, but you have the urge to scream at him... tell him not to touch what doesn’t belong to him, tell him to get away from them as if he’s the poison. It’s totally irrational, especially when he’s the one who seems to need reassurance here. You aren't sure why he automatically jumps to that conclusion, but you don't think too much about it.

It’s that damn dream. It’s corrupting you. Fuck, maybe you’re possessed. Possessed by the ghost of Jeon-fucking-Jungkook and its causing you to nearly bite Seojoon's head off over touching some dying flowers... You don’t know, but you almost want to laugh at yourself.

You swallow your outburst before it can escape and disguise it with a weary laugh as you make your way over to him.

“What? No, I got these myself. They were on sale and looked sad, wanted to see if I could bring some life back into them.”

This irks Seojoon. He also feels irrationally about it, but sort of regrets immediately jumping to conclusions. It nearly revealed his insecurities… or maybe something deeper than just insecurity. Projection, perhaps, but he’d never admit that.

He feels less of a man knowing you bought yourself fucking flowers, especially ones as pitiful as these. He thinks if you want flowers, he should be buying them for you. He buys them for you often, it's just that you never seem very interested.

He doesn’t like it and neither do you. You wish he’d get you something else, anything else, not flowers. Anything but flowers. It's such a sweet gesture, but as you have said to yourself so many times before, flowers are reserved for someone you refuse to talk to him about.

You grab the bouquet almost protectively and walk over to the sink, get on your tiptoes to start rummaging your cabinets for a proper vase to put them in.

“Should’ve just asked me for flowers, babe. You know I’d get you anything you want... those are just so fucking ugly.”

He laughs when he says it, shakes his head and walks over to where the cookies rest. He takes one from the container and starts nibbling on it, makes a face of almost disgust because fuck, why’re they so rich?

You don’t notice the face he’s making because you’re stuck on the fact that he called these flowers ugly. They aren’t. They’re just sad. Maybe you’re being oversensitive about something so fucking mundane, but it really rubs you the wrong way that he would call them ugly just because they’re wilting.

You wonder if he’s ever thought of you similarly, considering it was no secret when you met him that you weren’t flourishing like you once were. You were recovering from heartbreak, you were as wilted as you could get... much more wilted than these discount flowers.

“They’re not ugly, just need some TLC…” you mutter under your breathe as you fill up a vase full of water.

He doesn’t respond because he disagrees. These flowers are dying, there’s no saving them, that’s why they were marked down in price. No one wants dying flowers.

No one but you.

“Are these the cookies you’re bringing to the potluck?”

You glance at him as he asks. He’s starting to piss you off, which is just making your mood so much worse, you’re already nervous and anxiety-ridden, is he really going to choose today to be picky and pessimistic about shit?

“Yeah, why? Something wrong with them?”

You try to hide the bite in your tone as you place the flowers in their new vase. You fluff them up a bit, sprinkle some plant foot into the water and set them on your windowsill, hoping they’ll get some Sun in the morning.

He snorts at your comment about the cookies and shakes his head, “No, they’re just really… sweet. But you’re a sweet girl, guess I should’ve expected that, huh?”

He’s buttering you up now, because he can tell his comments are bothering you. He’s unsure which one of you are acting extra sensitive tonight, but he silently blames you. Maybe she’s on her period, she didn’t fuck me last night so would make sense, he thinks to himself. Such a man-coded thing to think...

That’s the good thing about Seojoon though; he thinks to himself. He often closets those little comments inside of his head. You’ve yet to have a real argument. The honeymoon phase is inevitably waning, but it’s still there. He doesn’t want to ruin that… because that’s normally when the women he dates start to grow tired of him.

But he wants to keep you. His little wildflower. His little stray cat.

If you knew half of the shit he thought to himself… he has a feeling you would grow tired of him quickly.

You don’t respond to his kiss-ass comment, instead you just shake your head at him. You don't want to argue, especially when you are the one feeling butt-hurt. After fussing over the flowers, you pull out the mac and cheese from the oven and cover the top with tinfoil. You find yourself hoping that tonight passes by quickly because you’re just not in the mood to pretend to be fine.

But you must. Pretend, deny, ignore, just for a little longer. It’s just a bad day, you tell yourself. You’re just sensitive, that’s all. This isn't his fault, it's yours for digging up dead flowers.

As you put the food inside of a bag, Seojoon grabs his coat. He can tell you’re not amused with him at the moment, and doesn’t want to push it. Wants to avoid pissing you off further because he’d be so fucking embarrassed if the first time he brings you around his friends is also the first time you guys argue.

So he does as he should and keeps his mouth shut. No reason to poke the bear.

“Ready to go?”

“Mhm.”

You also want to avoid arguing, obviously. This day has been bad enough, and tonight is supposed to be fun. So you keep your mouth shut just like him.

The communication is lacking.

You both walk down to his car after you lock up your apartment, and begin making your way to the potluck. The drive is silent, other than the music playing subtly in the background. At some point, Seojoon's shuffled playlist plays Hopelessly Devoted To You by Olivia Newton-John from the OG Grease soundtrack. And of course Seojoon starts fucking belting it to the top of his lungs as he drives, putting on a whole ass concert for you to try and cheer you up.

“But now… there's nooowhere to hiiide, Since you pushed my love asiiiiide, I'm ooout of my head, Hopelessly devoted to yoooooou!”

And despite your sour mood and the flies in your stomach, it does cheer you up. It’s silly. He looks ridiculous, a grown ass man singing to you like a damsel in distress while driving. You’re thankful he did it, because your giggles are a good distraction from the lingering thoughts of the man from your past haunting you today.

You barely register the lyrics, Seojoon drowns out what the song is saying entirely with his very off-key terribly singing and the way he dramatically grips your hand like a microphone.

But if you did notice the lyrics, you’d have gotten the sinking feeling that this song is foreshadowing your night.

Thank god you didn’t notice the lyrics.

After this, the mood lightens significantly. You find yourself chattering with him along the way, making little playful comments as you always do. You’re still nervous, but you have a false sense of security now. You were just in your head, that damn dream messed up your entire day and it was causing you to nearly take it out on Seojoon. There’s nothing to be nervous about. You’re meeting new people, this will be fun. A step in the right direction to your possible relationship with him.

This is good. Everything is going to be fine, surely it will. Just a bad day.

At exactly 7:10 pm, you arrive at Taehyung's house. It’s very lovely. It isn’t some sort of luxurious mansion or anything, but it is much nicer than your own small apartment. You can tell his friends must be well off; the various nice cars parked around show that they all must work hard for what they have, which makes sense because, as far as you're aware, they're all a bit older than you. The house has a nice sized front yard, and the outside is clean looking, minimal furniture on the porch, but it still looks cozy. Doesn’t look too big or intimidating. Just a typical house for guys around Seojoon's age and status.

Makes you feel less nervous about lacking something. You’ve always thought of Seojoon as an humble guy, but his job is very well paying and he doesn’t want for anything, so you assume his friends are the same. It was a bit intimidating to think about because your job isn’t exactly bringing you riches, but it does make you happy.

You just want to impress them. Maybe a little too much. It seems silly because you're an adult who has nothing to prove to anyone. This isn't high school, you aren't here to try and fit in... but if Seonjoon's friends decide they don't like you, you may as well end it tonight. Relationships never end or even begin well if those surrounding you don't get along who you are dating... or not-dating-but-sort-of-dating in this case. That's why the pressure feels a bit much at this moment. No, you don't care what they think of you, but also, you kind of do. Because you want things with Seojoon to work.

Seojoon parks at an empty spot on the side of the street, and pats your thigh as he says, “You ready? Or you gonna make a run for it when you get out of the car?”

It’s only meant as a joke, but he really shouldn’t tempt you. He’s lucky he knows how to make you laugh.

“Don’t tempt me.”

He snorts at thatbut holds his hands up in mock surrender. He gets out of the car and opens your door for you as he always does—such a gentlemen. He would have carried the bag of food, too, but you insisted you do it. You want to make sure they know that you came bearing treats, that you made this for them and for Seojoon.

Once you get on the porch, he knocks on the door. You feel those flies in your stomach swirling around, and you wish so badly that you never thought of them as flies, because it makes the feeling a lot more intimidating. Butterflies are much more appealing than flies.

The door swings open, and you see a tall man smiling fondly at Seojoon. His smile is boxy, and you immediately recognize it as the smile Seojoon described as belonging to Taehyung. You love him already.

“Joon, come in. Ooooh and you’ve brought a pretty girl with you too!”

Of course, Taehyung knows who you are. You’re Seojoon's girl. Seojoon wasn’t joking when he said he talks about you often, always bragging about you and maybe exaggerating things a little too much in his excitement.

As you walk in, you say kindly, “Its nice to meet you finally, I’m Y/N.”

Taehyung smiles down at you as Seojoon removes his jacket, “Likewise, I’ve heard so much about you. Joon is fucking whipped for you.”

Seojoon immediately swats Taehyung on the head and gives him a scolding look. You find it funny how he seems to be embarrassed about that comment. Cute, even.

Seojoon isn’t embarrassed, though. He just doesn’t want Taehyung to say too much… doesn’t want him to slip up and call you his girlfriend before he has the chance to do it himself. Then it would be evident that he’s been referring to you as his girlfriend all this time. Can’t have that. Not yet.

“Hey! It’s true, you got hearts in your eyes n’ shit!” Taehyung gestures dramatically to Seojoon's face, and Seojoon rolls his eyes.

“Don’t listen to him, he’s being dramatic.” Seojoon retorts as he moves to take off your jacket for you.

You shake your head and subtly nudge his touch away… because you don’t want to take this jacket off. At the moment it’s like a security blanket. A warm hug in a moment when you’re feeling unsure. Safe. Safe like—

Nope. Not here. Stop.

“Ah, it’s ok, gonna keep it on. Thank you though.”

Seojoon's jaw ticks but he smiles to hide it. Doesn’t like that you didn’t let him act gentlemanly in front of his friend. But he reminds himself that you're an independent girl... even if it irritates him sometimes.

“Joonie! Ah! You’re here!”

You barely have a moment to think when you see a woman rush over to Seojoon like he’s her long-lost lover, wrap her arms around him, and hug him hard.

Oh, you don’t like that. You’ve never really been the jealous-possessive type, those feelings only occur when trust is lacking in a relationship. And as of now, you have no reason not to trust Seojoon...

But something about how comfortable she was being blatantly clingy like that really does not sit well with you.

You smile a bit awkwardly at Taehyung, who looks just as bewildered as you are in the moment, and then you turn to Seojoon and give him a silent look that says who the fuck is this?

Seojoon does look a bit tense as this woman embraces him. He hugs her back awkwardly and gives you an apologetic smile as he pulls away from her.

“Sena, hey, yeah I’m here. Brought my girl with me, too. Sena, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Sena... we work together.”

You smile politely at her as she turns to face you. Her smile looks just as fake as yours does. Sickly sweet, all teeth, but her eyes scream judgment.

It’s odd, though, because she looks so fucking familiar. You rack your brain quickly, trying to figure out where you know her from, but you come up empty. Maybe you’ve seen her when bringing Seojoon lunch or something.

“Nice to meet you Sena.”

She nods at you, reaches out and touches your jacket, which you nearly recoil from. She clearly lacks boundaries. You start to feel a bit more at ease seeing that she’s just a naturally touchy person, no need to read too much into why the fuck she just hugged Seojoon like she loved him.

“Y/N! I’ve heard so much about you, Seojoon talks about you aaaall the time. I love your jacket by the way, did you get it from the thrift?”

Did you... get it... from the thrift?

Now, there’s nothing wrong with thrifting. In fact, you shop at the thrift often. It’s better for the environment, you find unique pieces, and it saves you money. Better than buying fast fashion or blowing money on shit like Gucci that’s overpriced and not as cute as the vintage pieces at the thrift.

But the way she said it... it’s not a compliment. You know damn well you’re not the only who noticed either, because Taehyung is looking at Seojoon like what the fuck, and Seojoon is looking at Sena like shut the fuck up.

What upsets you most is that this jacket is one of your most prized possessions. Will anyone ever know why? No. Absolutely not. But it’s precious to you, and you hate that she just tried to make you feel bad about it.

Regardless, you smile at her and shake your head, because you didn’t come here to cat fight with some woman who doesn’t have a filter or a sense of when to stop.

“Ah, thanks. No I didn’t get it from the thrift, was a treat for myself last autumn.”

You lie easily. You could just as easily tell her that it was a gift from someone near and dear to you, make her feel bad, but you already told Seojoon a long while ago that you bought it for yourself. Can’t get caught in your white lies.

She merely nods at you in response, reaches down to tug on one of the sleeves and you have to fight the urge to fucking backhand her for touching you without your permission again. Who does this bitch think she is?

“Oooh ok. My husband had a similar jacket last year but he threw it in the trash. Cute, though.”

Before you can even take in what she just said or come up with some sort of rebuttal, Seojoon cuts in. He gently wraps his arm around your waist and says, with a bit too chipper of a tone, "Right, well, I wanna introduce you to everyone else, Y/N. The guys are dying to meet you. It was nice seeing you, Sena."

He quickly drags you away from the infuriating woman just like that. Part of you wants to scold him for it, ask him why the fuck he didn’t say something to her or defend you. But you know in the back of your mind that he was most likely avoiding conflict just like you.

Great fucking start. You’ve met one woman, and she’s being a cunt. Surely, the other women here are nicer...

Once you enter the kitchen, he takes the bag of food from you and hands it to one of the guys, whom he introduces as Seokjin. Tall and handsome, looks almost as if he could be Seojoon’s brother, and the man clearly knows he’s good-looking, too. He seems pretty cocky but also very kind.

Seokjin waves you both off and says he’ll set the food out with the other treats so you can get acquainted with the rest of the guys. Seojoon grabs your arm, and although he’s being gentle, you wish he would stop fucking dragging you around. Again, you don't mean to be so sensitive, and you know it is most likely meant as a comforting gesture, but it's making you feel almost like a child.

It’s making you feel tense and a bit trapped... but you say nothing for the time being.

He brings you to the living room, which is very nicely decorated. Simple, but not too much. Taehyung has a good sense of style. Most of the decor is modern, black and white, but there are various pops of color around, and he has some fascinating pieces of art.

The pops of color dim a bit when you realize Sena is also in here. The spot next to her is empty, and she’s staring you down like an owl would stare at a damn kitten wandering around places it shouldn't be.

God, you hope not all of the girls here are like this... wait... where are the other girls? You take a quick look around and realize that you don't see any other woman here.

“Guys, this is Y/N, my girl. Y/N, this is Hoseok, Jimin, and Namjoon.”

Each of them wave at you as Seojoon introduces you, and you give them a polite smile. All of them are handsome guys, you’re realizing. Makes sense that Seojoon would have such attractive friends, considering he himself is attractive. But damn. They’re all so pretty.

Namjoons smile is one of the prettiest, his dimples stand out and his eyes are warm and welcoming. He’s tall like Jin and Seojoon, whereas Jimin is shorter, but looks fucking ethereal. You’re jealous of how plump his lips are, but he looks so damn sweet. And Hoseok literally reminds you of sunshine with the way he beams at you. Flowers love a bit of sunshine. You feel like you’ll get along with all of them great.

“Damn, Seojoon, she’s so pretty. No wonder you won’t shut the fuck up.”

Jimin smiles after he says it, his eyes scrunching into crescent moons as he giggles at Seojoon's disgruntled groan. The other guys join in… and you realize that you don't see any other woman here. The only woman in sight is Sena, which means the men here didn’t actually bring their partners, or they just don’t have one. You feel a bit deceived.

Either way, Seojoon lied, which you don’t like. Sure, you lied about the origin of your jacket, but that’s harmless compared to him lying about who was going to be here just to get you to agree to join him easily.

You don’t want to make any quick assumptions, though . Maybe you just haven’t met them yet. And if he did lie…. You’ll scold him later. But you have a sinking feeling that when he said the guys 'spouses/girlfriends' would be here, he meant only Sena.

“Nice to meet you Y/N, we’re all really glad you’re here. We’ve been wanting to meet you!” Namjoon says with a welcoming smile.

You start to feel a bit bad that you haven’t met them sooner, although you’re aware that Seojoon isn’t really that close to anyone here other than Taehyung. You almost hope that changes, because they all seem so pleasant so far, other than Sena. These are the types of guys you’d ask to hold you drink at the bar.

They all feel safe... similar to- Nope.

“You really are pretty, Y/N, way too pretty for the likes of Seojoon. You remind me of a sunflower!” Hoseok says. He’s only playing, but the fact that he compares you to a flower makes you feel both flattered and… a bit melancholic.

Flowers are reserved from someone else, you think to yourself again for like the third fucking time today. Irritating, flowers are everywhere, and here you are, gatekeeping them for someone who is practically dead to you. But he was being sweet and has no clue that flowers are a sore spot for you. No one does. It's sweet that he thinks of you as a sunflower when you think of him as the sun. You feel like you could easily become best friends with Hoseok.

“Ah, wow, you’re all so sweet. Thank you. I’m really happy to be here too. I appreciate the warm welcoming.”

You feel yourself become a bit shy as Seojoon drags you to one of the couches to sit down. You nearly want to slap him across the damn head when he picks the spot next to Sena, because why the fuck would he do that? Why would he put you in that position? Especially considering when he sits down, he gives you the seat next to hers, which thankfully grants a bit of space between you that you assume is reserved for her husband... but even then, she's too close for comfort. You feel like you're sitting next to a snake.

But you don’t protest because it wouldn’t look good if you immediately shunned the only fucking woman here after being here for barely twenty minutes.

You wonder who her husband is out of all the guys, because they seem far too good for her. Maybe that’s a bit harsh, but nothing about this familiar woman screams kind. She eyes you like a hawk, while in the same breathe smiles brightly at everyone else here.

Maybe she’s a pick-me sort of girl, maybe it’s internalized misogyny, or maybe she just doesn’t like you for no good goddamn reason.

“Are the two grumps still outside smoking? The food's gonna get cold. Also, Y/N, these cookies are like crack. Holy fuck.”

Taehyung breaks you away from your thoughts about the snake sitting next to you as he walks into the living room, two cookies in his hand, cheeks stuffed full, and chocolate on his bottom lip. He really does remind you of a big kid, just as Seojoon described, and it’s flattering that he likes your cookies. It’s kind of a relief, even, considering Seojoon seemed not to be a fan of them earlier. At least someone likes them.

“I’m so glad you like—“

“I know right? My girlfriend is the best cook.”

“There they are, get your grumpy asses back inside we have food to eat.”

So much happens at once that you can't focus. You’re stunned in silence because of the way Seojoon just so casually called you his girlfriend, and no one even batted an eye. They accepted it as if this wasn't new information to them.

It’s one thing to refer to you as his girl because you refer to him as your man. But he knows how you feel about the label, and he knows damn well you would tell him when you’re ready to add it. Seojoon knows that you aren't ready. And instead of respecting that, he took it upon himself to announce your apparent relationship, meanwhile none of his friends congratulated him or even really reacted to it... which means this isn't the first time he has called you his girlfriend against your wishes.

You’re so caught up in this that you don’t notice the tiny sliver of space dip beside you. You don’t realize someone is pressed against your other side on the cramped couch. You don’t smell the familiar scent of baby powder and fresh linen. You don’t hear Namjoon as he introduces you to the body next to you.

Because you feel betrayed in some way. You question if you’re being dramatic, but you don’t like that he abruptly forced this label on you. You know it may be irrational, he has a damn key to your apartment, but it's not like there's no reason you are hesitant to fully commit. He doesn't know exactly why, but he has known from the start that you wanted to take things slow and go at your own pace. He just took that from you. It's even worse because it’s the first time you’ve met his friends. It puts you in an incredibly uncomfortable position because if you deny it, you make both of you look bad.

There were signs, though... Such as how he kept bringing it up last night and his little hint in the note he left this morning. You just never expected Seojoon would so blatantly cross a boundary like this.

You tune back in when you see Namjoon gesturing to the man sitting on the couch across from you, “and this is Yoongi, he’s quiet and looks kinda grumpy, but he’s just shy. He’s really sweet.”

The man who’s apparently named Yoongi flips Namjoon off and then nods at you, “Hey." He says simply.

You try to bring yourself down from your oversensitive feelings because you don’t want anyone to think you’re being rude. But god, you’re still reeling because of Seojoon. It doesn’t help that he has his fucking hand on your thigh, either. You have been having such a hard time controlling your emotions today, and none of this is helping.

You smile at Yoongi but say nothing, because he’s already talking to Taehyung. You don’t take offense to it, in fact you’d thank him for letting you off easily if you could, because right now you don’t think you could speak with a stable voice.

Seojoon can tell you’re upset, but he acts oblivious. Because he knows damn well what he did and he knows the reason for it was wrong… He was jealous. In fact, he was jealous from he moment you both walked in and everyone was commenting on how pretty you were. He knows they were just being kind, but something about Taehyung commenting on how good those cookies were set him off heavily. Made him feel the need to be clear about what you were to him. They all know you as his girlfriend anyway, but he isn't close to everyone here... he needed them to know that he does have a claim on you, even if you don't know it yourself.

And he knows you aren’t an object to claim, but he’s only a man…

“Nice jacket. Your boyfriend get it for you?”

For fucks sake, what is it with people and this jacket tonight? And now they're calling him your boyfriend. Not fucking helping.

You come out of your silent fit and realize that someone is sitting next to you, sandwiched between you and Sena, which must mean this is her husband. And just like her, his tone is almost insulting. What the hell do they have against this precious piece of clothing? Are they Calvin Klein haters?

You’re debating whether or not to pop off at whoever this man is, but his voice makes chills run up and down your spine. Sounds... familiar. Eerily familiar.

You turn to face him, wanting to get a look at him before you say something passive-aggressive because maybe he isn't trying to be rude, but is just gruff. You also want to know why his voice sounds so familiar, why he smells so familiar, and why the flies in your stomach just multiplied by ten and something is telling you, 'Don't fucking look, Y/N.'

And the moment you look at him, you understand. You wish so badly that you could run the fuck away.

There’s no way this is happening to you right now. There is no fucking way that whoever controls fate and karma hates you this much.

It is impossible for this man to be sitting next to you right now.

Jeon Jungkook stares right at you, and it's as of time stops. His eyes aren’t as kind as you remember them, but his pupils are blown to absolute shit as he stares at you, and his nostrils are flaring with each breathe he takes.

You blink rapidly, because surely you’re hallucinating. Maybe you finally did have your psychotic break. Maybe you’re bat-shit-fucking-crazy and now you’re seeing things that aren’t really there. You almost hope that you are currently going insane.

But no. You feel his warmth, and you finally realize why you recognized his voice and that smell that is so unique to him, and why Sena seemed so familiar in the beginning.

Because Sena is the woman that you’ve been stalking on Instagram periodically to get tiny glimpses of your flower. Sena is the fence that surrounded him all that time, the cage, much like her nails are possessively curled around his bicep right now, keeping him under lock. Sena is the reason that you had to watch your flower be ripped out of your shared soil and taken away from you. So many months ago, but as you stare at him, it's as if the wound is fresh and you never fucking grieved him.

Sena is his fucking wife.

You don’t know which is more earth shattering; the fact that he is sitting in front of you right now, or the fact that he’s married to this witch.

How the fuck didn’t you recognize her sooner?

You don’t know what to do. And oh, it is so fucking ironic how he is sandwiched between you and Sena, and you are sandwiched between him and Seojoon. Such a fucking tragedy.

You may as well jump off a cliff... or play dead. Act like a fucking opossum to get out of this situation. You don’t know if you want to cry or laugh at the irony of it all, at the fact that for months you worked on getting over this man, only for him to end up right fucking beside you in your not-boyfriends group of friends.

Right when you thought shit was getting better.

Or was it? Because you had that nightmare last night. You’ve felt anxiety ridden all day. Every little thing was reminding you of him out of nowhere after months of slowly letting go.

The signs were there, and maybe the universe was trying to tell you. Anxiety over intuition is bullshit, clearly… you didn't listen. Always trust your gut.

“I asked you a question. Did. Your. Boyfriend. Get. You. That jacket?”

Torn away from your thoughts once more, you nearly flinch at his tone of voice. He sounds so fucking…. Mean. And he knows damn well your ‘boyfriend’ didn’t get you this jacket. It’s his fucking jacket. So why is he doing this?

“No, she got it from the thrift. Looks like the one you trashed doesn’t it?”

Wrong fucking time for her to open her stupid fucking mouth.

You feel like you are going to freak out. You are so overwhelmed that you can't even say anything.

Jungkook wants so badly to smirk at this. Because he knows you didn’t get it from the thrift and he knows he never threw that jacket out. Little does Sena know, the jacket he allegedly threw in the trash is the exact one on your body right now.

“Stop being so grumpy.” She scolds him, and has the fucking nerve to take the palm of her hand and push on his head like some fucking dog trying to steal someone’s food.

He doesn’t even react. That’s what’s most devastating of everything that has transpired so far, you think. Out of all that has happened in the last few minutes, this is what bothers you the most. She just subtly degraded him, which may not seem as harsh as you think, but the way his jaw ticked when she did it showed that it wasn't playful. He's used to it, which means she does shit like that often.

Which also means he can’t possibly be as happy as he looks in those pretty pictures on her Instagram.

All this time, he hasn’t been as ok as you thought. You don’t even need him to tell you; you see it in his eyes. Pupils are still dilated to shit as his eyes stay on you, but his eyes express nothing other than bitterness, loneliness, and a sort of longing only he ever looked at you with.

Fuck. You can’t breathe.

No one else seems to notice the tension between you both, or that he’s staring at you as if he’s a starving man looking at a meal being consumed by someone else. Seojoon is talking to Taehyung about something, and the guys around you are joining in, everyone is oblivious to the loud silence stretching between you and Jungkook.

The only one privy to the tension is Yoongi, as quiet as a mouse and as observant as a cat. But you don’t see it. You don’t see anything other than a dead flower taunting you the same way it does in your dreams.

It’s funny because Jungkook can see the turmoil written on your face. Even after all this time, he knows your tells so fucking well. The way your eyes continuously flutter when you blink, the way you’re picking at your nails and bouncing your leg, and the way your eyes won't hold his. He knows you’re fucked right now… and he almost feels satisfaction in it.

Because unlike you, he didn’t move on. After he left, he was a fucking mess. That first month without you was hell, and he was alone throughout it all. His wife was gone, her business trip was conveniently extended another two weeks, so he was able to blubber like a baby and break shit in fits of emotion without anyone noticing. He drank like an alcoholic to try and numb the feeling of complete despair that came with you being gone. What really tore him up, but also pushed him, was when you blocked his number.

What he didn't expect was silence. So when he woke up and re-read what he sent, he sent another apology... because no matter how badly he wished you would extend an olive branch of some sort, he would never want to make you uncomfortable. So he sat there and typed a very lengthy apology for disrespecting your wishes and ever putting you in this situation to begin with. Once he sent it, he sat there and waited for it to deliver… only for the message to turn green. Because you fucking blocked him.

He knows this was the right thing for you to do. You did not owe him anything, and you needed to move on. But god, the fact that you took away his only point of connection that he still had to you, it made him feel so out of control, so fucking bitter and sad inside.

He tried to take this as sign to do better, to move on himself. Because as you have both acknowledged many times before, he wasn’t yours. His heart still very much belonged to you, but he could never fully give himself to you. He was married to Sena. He needed to move on, too.

Your words rang in his head for days, 'love your wife more,' and he wanted to. Despite Sena being insufferable at times, she was still his wife, and he aided in pushing her away. She deserved better and he made a commitment to her for life. He needed to fucking try.

And so he did. For weeks he debated on confessing to her, coming clean. But every time he tried, she wouldn't give him a chance.

"Sena, please we really need to talk."

"About what?"

"About us. Need to get some shit off of my chest... please."

"Ugh, Jungkook, no we don't. We're fine."

That's how it went every time. He would try, and she wouldn't let him. So eventually, he decided to just keep it to himself and silently vow that he would do right by her. He would repent for his sins, cleanse himself with holy water made from his sorrowful tears cried silently at night, and he would make this right.

He wanted so fucking badly to make this right. He didn't want to be a stray dog anymore. You gave him up to the pound, and he was returned to his rightful owner. He wanted to be a loyal and loving companion to his wife. Not a stray fucking dog like he had been long before you came and stole him away from home.

He went out of his way to make her life more pleasurable and easier. Every morning, he woke up and made her breakfast, and every night even when he was tired from taking photos all day, he would make her a home cooked dinner. Did she always want it? No. She complained about it sometimes, claimed she'd rather takeout. And even though it stung, he would get her whatever takeout she wanted.

He continuously bought her things. Flowers, jewelry, sweets that were freshly baked at fancy cafes he knew she liked, new and expensive designer clothing he noticed her eyeing, anything she wanted, he would get for her. Anything he thought she would like, he would buy for her.

Along with the obscene amount of gifts he got her, he had been taking her out more. Fancy restaurants that served small and overpriced portions, but the experience was apparently worth it because of the celebrities who often frequented places like these. He took her to Coachella in LA which was incredibly last second, he dropped way too much money on that damn trip, but he knew she wanted to go and he was going to make it happen. He recreated their honeymoon on their anniversary, took her to Japan just like he did the night that they got married, tried to make it as extravagant and sentimental as he possibly could.

He never questioned her when she would disappear on work trips with barely any notice. He would go along with it, wish her a safe flight, and put his full trust in her despite the fact that he knew she was never really going where she said she was. He cheated, after all. He doesn't have the right to question her loyalty when he was the one who was disloyal. Like you, he’s good at denying things that are obvious. He tried his best to deny the fact that every time she came home from these trips, she was glowing and didn’t smell like herself.

He became more affectionate, kissed her every morning and every night, snuggled her in bed, told her how pretty she is and how much he loved her. He did his fucking best to fall back in love with her and show her that he was trying.

And to anyone else on the outside looking in, they would appear as the perfect married couple. He would appear as the perfect husband who showers his wife with love, kisses the ground she walks on, and supports her demanding career. She would appear as the trophy wife that any man would kill to have. They seemed perfect when she posted her little pictures on Instagram, or when she made rare appearances to gatherings with their friends.

But behind closed doors, it was never enough, and no matter how fucking hard he tried, he remained a stray dog. Instead of being welcome back inside once he came back home to her, he was chained to a fence and kept at arms length. He was fed crumbs of reassurance and half assed affection that was only ever given when she saw that he was unhappy. But Sena didn’t want a stray dog.

She didn't smile at his cooking the same way she did at takeout. When he bought her flowers, he would often find them in the trash. When he bought her clothing or jewelry, he never saw her wear it. When he got her sweets or coffee from her favorite cafes, she would complain that they weren't right. When he took her to fancy dinner dates, she barely paid attention to him or engaged in conversation with him. When they went on little vacations, she would get bored of him after the first day there. And when he tried to kiss or touch, she would brush him off like he was gross.

She still refused to fuck him, even when he would give her hints. This was the most challenging thing. For Jungkook, sex isn't possible unless feelings are involved. So he had to work himself up to even try to be intimate with her. It was bad enough that the thought of touching someone else, even himself, made him fucking sick after you were gone. So when he did finally manage to get a boner one night when he was a bit tipsy and trying to snuggle her in bed, he tried to reignite that flame between them.

Only for her to tell him that the she was on her period… which was a blatant lie. Jungkook knows this because Sena has an IUD that lasts up to 8 years and stopped her periods completely. She hasn’t purchased feminine products such as tampons or pads or even period panties in years. She got the IUD a few months after they married. She wasn’t on her period, she just didn’t fucking want him.

That was the day that he accepted defeat.

She fell out of love with him, it was clear. And there was nothing that he could do to make her love him again. No amount of money or pretty things or fun trips would make her want him again. And he couldn't even show her with his body either, because she wouldn't allow him.

He wanted to blame everyone. Her, you, him, god, satan, the fucking universe itself. He resented her for it, she made him feel so small and unlovable. And if he had never met you, he wouldn't have been tempted, so maybe he could have saved them sooner. And as for god and the devil, well, real or not, he’s blaming them anyway.

Most of all, he blamed himself. It’s always been him. He feels like he could have done so many things differently to keep her love. He should have never pulled away and became distant when she told him she didn’t want kids, he should have talked to her about it. He should have worked it out with her. He knows in the back of his mind that it isn’t fully his fault, it takes two to communicate and keep a healthy relationship… but when he’s alone, it is so fucking easy to take the blame for it all.

He accepted it, because he was tired. A man can only take so much rejection from his own fucking wife before just saying fuck it. And it wasn't like he could talk to her about it, because she wouldn't let him.

He knew there must be someone else, so it was only a matter of time before she left him. He wasn't going to leave her, because he had nothing to lose, did he? He already lost you, he lost himself, and he lost the woman he swore he would spend forever with. He may as well suffer and take his rightful punishment.

She wasn't a monster, and he still cared for her very much. He was not innocent in all of this, he pushed her away, too. A relationship consists of two people, and he quit communicating with her at some point, just as she did with him. He lied and deceived her, so no matter how cold she had become, or what wrong she did, he was in the wrong, too. Two wrongs never make a right.

So, he went back into the doghouse. He stopped whining and howling for her to let him in. He stopped scratching at the door and staring at her with pleading eyes. As the seasons changed and time passed, he stayed in that doghouse in the cold. He stared at the space that two flowers once bloomed together, and the emptiness of it made it so fucking obvious that you were the light that he was missing the most. Without you, there were no stars in the sky, the sun was dull, the moon was invisible, and the flowers never fucking bloomed again.

And every goddamn night he thought of you more and more. Oh, how he wished you would come and rescue him again, because if you did, he would do anything for you. He would leave her, he would give you all his money, he would jump off a damn cliff. He would so much rather be in the doghouse in your metaphorical backyard than this cold and lonely doghouse that is called home. Anything for you. Always fucking you.

When he finally relented in trying to repent for his sins, he started dreaming of you. It was as if his acceptance of you being gone brought relief and turmoil all at once. Relief, because he could finally think of you again without feeling quite so guilty... turmoil because he was thinking of you again.

His dreams weren’t metaphorical like yours, they were always very realistic. Some of them were good, and he found that on nights that he dreamed of you both living happily ever after together, the day following was a little brighter.

But the nightmares made him volatile. The nightmares were always similar. He would run into you somewhere out in the wild, you’d catch up, and then a faceless man would appear and introduce himself as your boyfriend. He couldn’t fucking stand that. He didn’t know who the faceless man was, and every time he tried to run after you, beg you to choose him instead, he couldn’t move. He would stay frozen as he watched you walk away from him again and again, but this time you were happier, you were doing so fucking good without him.

Tonight, he swears he is living this nightmare. When he walked in after smoking, and he saw you, and the heard fucking Seojoon refer to you as his girlfriend? He wanted to punch something just to make sure this wasn’t a nightmare.

You both are very similar, always have been in many ways. Because he also stalked your Instagram. He probably did it way too much. He never made a move to message you or even follow you, he respected the fact that you were stern in your decision, but he lurked. He waited and waited for you to post something new because he was dying to know how you were doing.

And occasionally, you would post. Little cryptic captions that he couldn’t decipher even though he thought about them for hours, tried to find out if they had a hidden meaning like morse code. Pictures that didn’t show your full face, so he couldn’t figure out if you were happy or dying inside like he was; there was never anything that gave away how you were doing.

Until one day, you posted a photo of you and a man. And it was like his nightmares started coming true.

No caption, just a stupid fucking red heart emoji. It was a selfie of you smiling next to Seojoon at some café and he looked at you like you held the fucking stars. And then you posted more, and more, and more, as if you were taunting him on purpose. Some candid photos of Seojoon, some more silly little selfies of you two together, but what really fucked with his head was when you posted a photo you took of a Polaroid picture sitting on your bed, a picture of Seojoon and his dog that is apparently named Simba. You captioned it ‘My babies!!!’

The Polaroid camera he left for you, no doubt. That posts mere existence nearly sent him on a goddamn rampage.

The most comical part of it all is he knew exactly who Seojoon was. Not only did Sena work with the fucker, but he was Taehyung’s friend. He was never close with Seojoon, had met him a few times on nights out when Taehyung invited Seojoon to join, and he heard vague stories involving him when Sena would ramble about work. He never particularly liked him but didn’t hate him either. They just weren’t similar enough to be pals.

He fucking hates him now.

He knew when he saw you with Seojoon, that someday, he would have to face you together. Because Taehyung is one of Jungkook’s closest friends, and Taehyung is also close with Seojoon. They worked together on a few projects, Taehyung works in marketing at an art gallery, so they often swapped ideas and collaborated on marketing ideas. Taehyung also often invited Seojoon to their bar outings and get togethers. It was only a matter of time before Seojoon brought you with him.

He was well aware of the connection. And he was fucking anticipating this day.

See, he wasn’t even going to come tonight. He planned on getting drunk and falling asleep alone like he has done many nights now. But then Taehyung told him some of the people that would be here, which included Seojoon and ‘his new girl.’ His new girl, aka Jungkook’s girl, he still stubbornly thinks. And oh, like the stray dog he is, he started fucking panting at the thought of being near you again.

So, he agreed. What he didn’t fucking agree on was Sena showing up. He rarely brings her out with him, because she’s not interested in spending time with him anymore anyway. But for some fucking reason, she insisted on joining tonight.

That didn’t sit well with him. Something was very off about it. But he couldn’t say no, he wouldn’t say no, because despite how cold she is, he won’t cast her out like she’s cast him out. Not until she forces him to. And if he is being one hundred percent honest, he doesn’t give a fuck why Sena was so persistent on coming tonight. Whatever she’s doing, he doesn’t care anymore. He’s beyond the point of caring. He has his sight fucking set on you.

He has been buzzing all fucking night knowing he would see you again. He’s been in a foul mood, everyone noticed too. He refused to say why, just blamed it on being tired from work. But in reality, it was because he was going to see you again, and he was going to see you with another man.

Hell on earth, he feels this is far worse than you leaving him… but he’s a masochist, he thinks. He was dreading it while simultaneously buzzing with excitement. He felt a rush at imagining seeing you for the first time in half a year with another mans arm around you.

He won’t admit it, but knowing he would see you again kept him going. It was only a matter of time, and he had all the time in the world to wait, even if it was for a single moment and you refused to ever see him again after that. And honestly, he knew damn well all bets would he off. He knew the moment he saw you, he wouldn’t fucking stop. He wouldn’t let you go again. He doesn’t give a fuck if you’re with Seojoon now… he needs you. In any fucking way you’ll allow it. Whether it’s a friend, or an enemy, or a stray fucking dog that circles your apartment until you finally let him inside. Jungkook has always been stubborn, but he has never been as stubborn as he is when it comes to you.

He’s a stray dog, after all. Starved of love and affection that you once provided so freely. Having the knowledge that at some point you’d cross paths again was like waving a fucking steak in his face. He drooled when he thought about it.

He didn’t expect to walk in and the first thing he hears when he sees you is Seojoon referring to you as his girlfriend. And he didn’t expect to feel so fucking resentful towards you for looking like you were ok. You definitely seemed tense, and he had a good idea as to why, but you weren’t falling apart. You were just fine. Was it truly so easy for you to move on?

There you were, sitting on the couch with another man’s arm around you while wearing his fucking jacket and chain he gave you the last time you saw each other. He fucking hates it. It feels like the ultimate betrayal, and although he knows he is so out of line for thinking this way, he just can’t help it. You wanted to move on, you have every right to, you both agreed this is what you needed.

But he’s a stray dog. And this is equivalent to seeing his previous owner loving on a dog who never knew what it was like to be a stray.

He has always been selfish when it comes to you. He knows his feelings are so fucking hypocritical, because you aren’t the only one who showed up wearing things that didn’t belong to you while with someone else, he did the same exact thing; he’s wearing the star pimple patches he stole from you that last night together. He doesn’t even have any pimples, he just likes them, and he doesn’t give a fuck if Sena scolded him for it. He wore them knowing damn well you would both be here tonight with other people, because he wanted you to notice him. He wanted you to remember.

He's so selfish for his train of thought and he knows it. He won’t even deny it… but he had been suffering this entire time, even when trying to do the right thing, yet here you are, sitting in front of him, and you looked totally fine… up until you saw him.

When you saw him, you looked like you saw a ghost. Because you fucking did see a ghost. He may have been aware of what was happening tonight, but the last thing you expected was seeing him here, too.

But even with the bitterness and resentment he’s irrationally feeling, even with the volatile thoughts going through his head, he still can’t stand to see you sitting there looking as if you wish he was someone else. Fuck, he’d do anything to just wrap you in his arms and cradle you and kiss your forehead and whisper sweet everything’s in your ear.

To fucking have you again.

But he can’t do that. And he can’t stand to see you look at him as if you wish he weren’t here right now.

Which is exactly how you’re looking at him. Because you wish so badly that he was not here right now.

“Calvin Klein is a great brand, I’m wearing them too. You have good taste.”

He winks at you, lifts his shirt a bit to reveal the waistband of his fucking underwear, which just so happens to be the pair you used to favor. They’re a light purple color, which makes his honey skin look fucking divine, and they’ve always been snug on him. The tiny flash of color brings memories back quickly, memories of you tugging on them with your teeth and trying to suck him off through the fabric. Fuck. You are so fucked.

He does this as if it’s the most casual thing in the world. Just two people who are meeting for the first time, conversing over a brand of clothing and underwear they both enjoy. He totally didn’t wear these on purpose knowing you’d be here tonight. He totally didn’t premeditate wearing this pair of underwear, or the pimple patches, or being here at-fucking-all.

It’s all too much for you. You can barely even take in the way his hair got so much fucking longer, or the fact that he looks bulkier which means he has been going to the gym more, or the fact that he smells the exact same and reminds you of fucking home. You’re having a very hard time keeping your composure right now, and it feels as if the room is closing in on you.

It’ll keep closing until you and Jungkook are smooshed together, and there will be no denying the fact that you never truly got over him like you convinced yourself, you just buried all the bad feelings.

This is what happens when you deny yourself the truth. You’re fine for a long time, until one day, something little or big can cause it all to come bubbling to the surface, and you can no longer deny it.

That is what’s happening. And you need some fucking air before you suffocate.

“I left my purse in the car. I’ll be right back.”

You don’t even look at anyone as you swiftly make your way outside. Everyone remains oblivious, and if you had any coherent thoughts right now you would probably be concerned about the fact that Seojoon didn’t even blink at the way your voice shook when speaking.

“Actually, babe that reminds me, can you go get my purse too? I left it in the backseat.”

Oh, this just keeps getting better and better. Maybe God doesn’t hate Jungkook after all, because what a perfect fucking excuse to get you alone without anyone batting an eye.

“Yeah, I’ll be right back.”

You’re out the door before you can hear any of this. And if you did hear it, you just might steal Seojoon’s car and drive until the gas runs out, far, far away from here. But you have no idea that he’s trailing you right now, because where Jungkook may be gods favorite, god still definitely has it out for you.

You finally make it to Seojoon’s car, which is parked across the street on the curb. You place your palms on the window in hopes that the coolness will help calm your body because it feels like your blood is hot fucking lava right now.

You take deep breaths. Try to calm down the consistent zapping feeling and flies swarming your stomach that seem desperate to escape out of your mouth in the form of vomit.

You don’t like the fact that even though you felt dread when seeing Jungkook, for a single moment, the flies turned into butterflies again.

You don’t like the very sinful thoughts going through your head knowing that you now have access to him again.

Temptation is no joke, and you’re starting to question everything about the way you coped. Seeing him again surely would have fucked you up, it’s equivalent to seeing an ex who broke your heart, any other person would have probably been a bit shaken up… but this is so much worse. Because it isn’t just a passing glance or brief run in. Jungkook is Taehyung’s friend, who is also Seojoon’s friend. Jungkook is married to Sena, which is Seojoon’s coworker. They’re all fucking connected.

It is both thrilling and devastating.

“How cute that you showed up wearing my jacket while some other man’s hands are all fucking over you… does he know it’s mine?”

He doesn’t touch you, but he’s there. You feel his body heat behind you, and his palms come to rest right next to yours on the window. He has you boxed in, nowhere to fucking hide.

The lyrics from earlier come to mind, the lyrics that were very easy to ignore when Seojoon was terribly singing them:

‘But now there's nowhere to hide,

Since you pushed my love aside,

I'm out of my head,

Hopelessly devoted to you.’

Oh, how fucking fitting.

You don’t know why he’s doing this. He’s being kind of… argumentative. Unfair. Fucking childish, really. He’s never acted like this before… then again, time has passed, and feelings have obviously festered. Maybe he hates your guts now, because he clearly feels bitter about things ending.

You should push him away now. You should immediately set boundaries and tell him sternly that this isn’t ok, and he needs to keep his distance.

But you’ve only ever been so fucking weak for this man, and considering instead of pushing him away, you turn around to face him? You’re still very clearly too weak to be trusted around him.

The moonlight bounces off his face, and for the first time since encountering him tonight, you see light flicker in his eyes just like it used to. They aren’t as dark despite his pupils being blown still, but those little stars that you once loved so fucking much are glittering.

“Fuck.”

He has no idea what comes over him. But the moment you turn around, he expects you to do exactly as you should and push him away, scold him for being so irrational and impulsive and borderline disrespectful. But you don’t. Instead, your eyes mimic his, they fucking glitter and reflect the stars in his own. Asters dancing around in your eyes just like they used to.

That fucks him completely, to actually see that although you seem ok, you haven’t fully moved on like it appeared you had.

You both thought you each moved on, all because of some silly little Instagram posts that neither of you were meant to see to begin with. Nothing is as it seems, is it?

All an illusion.

He grabs your face, it’s so fucking impulsive and he knows it, but he loses control. He’s never been good at controlling himself around you, not unless you tell him no.

But you don’t tell him no. You don’t recoil and tell him to fuck off like you should. You let him.

Stupid girl.

He leans in, but doesn’t quite kiss you. He places his lips so close to yours that they brush together. You are fucking tense, it feels as if your bones could snap at how taught your body is, but you still don’t push him away. You need to, because what if someone walks out and sees? How the fuck would you explain that the man everyone assumes you just met is this close and touching you as if he’s fucking in love with you?

The secret would be out then. Oh fuck, what a mess that would be.

But all those thoughts fly out of the fucking window when he closes the distance. It’s soft, he doesn’t move his lips, he just lets them linger on yours. Both of you are fucking shaking like addicts who just got their first hit of their favored drug after being deprived.

You let out the smallest huff of air, and that’s all it takes for Jungkook to snap. He groans and begins kissing you ravenously. Tongue and teeth, love and hate, his hands leave your face and start wandering your body as if he’s mapping it out all over again. The stray dog finally got the fucking bone.

You kiss him back instinctively. Not much thought goes into it, it’s like your body just automatically responds after being deprived from him for so long. Your tongue tangles with his almost as if they’re fighting, your hands explore his body just as thoroughly as his does yours.

It’s like two planets colliding. Fucking chaos. It shouldn’t be happening, but it is, and neither of you are strong enough to stop it. The big-fucking-bang. The end and the beginning of the world all over again.

He grabs you by the waist and hoists you up, maneuvers your legs so that they’re wrapped around his waist and pins you to the car. Seojoon’s fucking car, by the way. He has no intention of going beyond kissing, because he knows there are lines that he won’t cross again unless you say so. Especially not so soon.

But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try to get as close as possible to you and bury himself inside of your very soul all over again. The thoughts going through his head are borderline crazy; he’s thinking shit like he wishes he could just crawl inside of you and live there; he wishes you really would treat him like a stray dog, buy him a fucking collar with your name on it, and take him home to keep him forever. Fuck, he would wear it, too. He would eat food off of the floor and lick your fucking feet if you said he could come home with you one last time.

You have no regard for your surroundings for a few moments, or even the fact that if you stay out here for too long people might question why you’re both out here longer than necessary. All you can focus on is how he tastes… how he tastes and feels like home. How for the first time in months, your arousal is bordering on painful just from his hands touching you. You never get like this with Seojoon, and you’re sure you’ll feel guilty for that later.

This is so fucking wrong in so many more ways than it ever was before, but somehow feels so right.

When he left, both of your flowers died. You haven’t bloomed since, and neither has he. You’ve both been dormant as the seasons change. You’ve to get on with your lives… but in this very moment, the seeds are replanted as if it’s inevitable. Spring flowers are dead, but autumn flowers are blooming.

Neither of you will ever be the same for each other again, but this alone is proof that no matter what season it is or how long apart you are… you will always fucking reignite the life in each other.

You’re both lucky, too, because Seojoon and Sena remain oblivious inside. Neither have even noticed that you’re gone, they’ve already helped themselves to some food and are chatting about work.

You know you need to get back inside soon regardless of who has or hasn’t noticed, because eventually someone will come looking. You can’t ravish each other like animals out here, not like this. But just a little bit longer…

“Fuck Y/N I’ve missed you so fucking much.” It comes out as a groan, but he sounds so fucking needy that you feel like you could faint. The way his voice cracks makes you groan back at him. He’s going to kill you acting like this. What a way to die.

Fuck. You need to stop before you go too far. You aren’t sure that you can control yourself.

So with shaky hands, you push him away, nearly fall as your knees wobble when he lets you out of his grip. You’re panting, your lips feel electric, and they taste so potently like him. You point a finger at him and say weakly, “N-no. No. Stop.”

It almost sounds as if you’re scolding a dog… which is ironic considering the canine-poetry he often compares himself to. And of course he stops, but he wonders what the sudden change was. He’s being stupid as fuck, this entire situation he put you both in is stupid, which is fitting because he feels fucking dumb in love all over again.

“Why? Did I hurt you?” He asks dumbly as he wipes his mouth, his fingers are twitching with need to touch you again, but he refrains for now because you said stop. He may be a stray, but he does as he’s told…

Oh, how fucking Jungkook of him to immediately wonder if he hurt you. Because no matter how selfish he is, he will always worry about hurting you, he will never fucking forgive himself for hurting you.

You breathe out a laugh that isn’t out of humor, but out of irony. He’s worried about hurting you, as if that’s the worst thing that could happen here tonight… when you both came here with your fucking partners.

“No, fuck. Jungkook, your fucking wife is inside, and so is my boyfriend. This is wrong. Can’t do this again”

You hate that even with Jungkook, you now feel pressured to call Seojoon your boyfriend. It makes you cringe that he pushed that label on you, and your current confusing feelings do not help at all. Jungkook notices you cringe, too.

He doesn’t like that.

He mimics your laugh, runs a hand through his long hair and shakes his head. He averts his eyes now because he simply can’t stand to look at you. Not when you just called Seojoon your boyfriend when you so obviously don’t see him as such.

He feels himself start to get pissed. He knows he shouldn’t be getting angry right now, has no reason or right to. You’re doing what you’re supposed to do; moving on… but now you’re in front of him again.

And he wants to make it fucking impossible for you to move on.

“Yeah? Your boyfriend, huh? So you’re a liar now too?”

You flinch, your back is pressed against the cool car as you stare at him in shock. Yeah, he’s pissed. Which is making you feel both irritated and a bit intimidated, because his mood switched so quickly. One moment he's devouring you, the next he’s accusing you of being a liar.

You both are so great at moving on! Fucking bullshit.

“What? No, he is my—”

“Does he kiss you like I do?”

He takes a step closer.

Fuck. Please don’t.

“Don’t—”

“Does he touch you like I do?”

Another step closer.

“Does he fuck you like I do?”

And now you’re pinned to the car again. He isn’t touching, because you told him not to. But his body is nearly brushing against yours as he looks down at you. You have no idea what the fuck to say.

“Does he love you like I do? Would he ever fucking be able to love you like I did and still do to this day, Y/N?”

You can’t take it. Fuck. The one thing you never did was compare Seojoon to Jungkook. You may have thought about Jungkook, you may have had lingering feelings for him, but you never once compared Seojoon to him because that would be so fucking unfair. Not only would it be unfair, but you know that if you did compare him, you would never be satisfied.

You never even thought to compare Seojoon to Jungkook until now, because there is no comparison. No one could possibly measure up to Jungkook.

But now, he’s planted those thoughts in your mind like fucking weeds. No, Seojoon doesn’t kiss you like Jungkook does, he doesn’t even seem to enjoy kissing. No, Seojoon doesn’t touch you like Jungkook does, he refuses to leave marks made of love and passion because he thinks it’s tacky. No, Seojoon doesn’t fuck you like Jungkook does, he likes to stick to the same few positions and prefers you on top. And no, Seojoon doesn’t love you like Jungkook ever did, Seojoon doesn’t love you at all.

Fuck Jungkook for putting these thoughts in your head.

You’re pissed at this point. Pissed at him for crossing the line and trying to sabotage shit, pissed at yourself for allowing him to kiss and touch and fill your head with thoughts on how Seojoon is only a tree whereas Jungkook is an exotic fucking flower.

You push at his chest again and grit out, “Fucking stop, I am done.”

You told him to stop, so he should. But he already started… and he isn’t sure he can stop now, not when you are right in front of him, and your face says it all; Seojoon will never be Jungkook.

Jungkook doesn’t budge when you push him, he stays in place like a fucking boulder. Has definitely been visiting the gym more.

“Yeah? You think we’re done? We’re not done.”

He leans down until he is nose to nose with you, his breath washing over your face, hot and heavy.

“I said we’re. not. done. Understand?”

You fucking hate yourself in this moment. Because Jungkook has done a lot of little things in the past that make you go crazy, a single fucking look could make you drop to your knees and do anything he wants. But this? This turns you on in a way you have never experienced before.

It drives you crazy with anger, longing, and fucking passion for him. He’s crossing a line right now, pushing you in ways that are so fucking wrong considering you both have people waiting for you inside. He’s still married, and you technically have a boyfriend now. So you should tell him how full of shit he is for trying to tell you you’re not done. He can’t make decisions for you.

He knows this, too. But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t push you to give into him again in some fucking way. He won’t let you go so easily this time.

But the way he says it… it’s as if he has never been more certain of anything in his life. Because he hasn’t. He is so serious when he says he’s not done. Neither of you are. He will make damn sure of it after the taste he had tonight.

You shouldn’t have planted that fucking seed.

The worst part is that you believe him. You know that look in his eyes, its determination. He won’t fucking stop until you tell him to never come near you again.

You don’t know if you can do that a second time.

You're about to scold him and tell him to back off, but you hear a whistle come from the house.

“Yo, Kook, come help me grill this pork belly.”

Yoongi stares at Jungkook’s back with an emotionless expression, there’s no mistaking how close he is to you right now and it has you so fucking on edge, because Yoongi sees it. What if he fucking tells someone?

This is the exact reason why you shouldn’t be sneaking around. Holy fuck.

It shouldn’t feel this good to sneak around with him again, especially when the stakes are even higher.

“Coming, was just helping Y/N with her purse.”

He stares you down as if to silently say ‘I am so fucking serious.’ And even though he looks borderline angry, there is no mistaking the devastating amount of love he still holds for you. Even when feeling jealous and angry and resentful, his eyes are still glittering when looking at you. It’s as if you’ve siphoned the life back into him.

He childishly pinches your waist, which causes you to squeak, and then he walks away, heading back towards the porch of the house where Yoongi lingers waiting for him.

You watch him the entire time, not sure what the fuck you’re doing or are going to do after this.

It really doesn’t help that before closing the door, Yoongi gives you a look as if to say, ‘I know your secret.’

Fuck, you are in so much trouble. What the fuck are you doing?

One thing is abundantly clear, though; this is either the start of something catastrophic, or it is the last time you will ever see each other again.

You just aren’t sure which one yet.

Yes you are.

You swiftly grab your purse from Seojoon’s car and reapply your lip tint in the mirror. You need to get back inside because now is not the time to start freaking out. People are waiting for you inside, one of which is a man that probably would never expect you to be out here kissing one of his ‘friends’ like a horny fucking teenager.

You have so much fucking thinking to do, but for now, you must pretend once again. You hope so fucking much that Jungkook behaves for the remainder of the night. Otherwise, you just might explode.

#bts #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #jungkook #jungkook angst #bts fanfction #bts imagines #bts smut #18+ only #jungkook x you #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #i love jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfiction #bts angst #bts x reader

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aezuria · 2 months

Note

hiii i love ur writing sm!! i was wondering if u would do leo valdez x reader headcanons? ty!!!

*ੈ✎ keep your head still, i'll be your thrill

—all the small things, blink-182

content: leo valdez x reader

warnings: cursing again

librarian's annotations: the title has no connection to the hcs but it came up while i was writing this also IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER 🙏🙏🙏

super clingy i do not make the rules

oh you thought you were gonna get up and be productive?? not today!

fuck everyone else tbh

LOVEEES gossip sessions with u

hes so invested in all the drama u have

probably laying on his stomach and swinging his feet and gasping incredulously. "what!? no she did not..."

got very pouty that you did not invite him to the girls night bc he didnt want to "miss out on the tea" (lwk stealing from my own work oops)

who can blame him tbh

LOVE LOVES DANCING

loves teaching u too (even if u suck)

like imagine him holding your waist and moving you to the beat as you fumble along, his chest pressed up against your own

GOOD LORD

"forward, back, left- there you go," he murmured into your ear, looking down at your feet. you stepped on his shoes a lot more than you should've; did he ever think that his proximity was why you were messing up!?

"you suck at this, don't you?" he laughed, but twirled you around anyway.

"did you ever think you're just a shit teacher?"

"rude!"

also this man was born a star

can probably hit super high notes as if its nothing

ok so we all know how hes a genius right

oh my GOD imagine him explaining how his stuff works and using words you're sure don't even exist and he's so into it and he just sounds so SMART

intelligence is so attractive why does no one talk abt that

you wanted to watch him work on the engine, so you pulled up a stool next to him. you stared at his side, his tank top dirty with grease and sticky with sweat. how long had he been working since you got here?

you'd get mad at him for not taking a break later. right now? you were admiring the view. who wouldn't?

"hey leo?"

he hummed in response, still hyper-focused on the engine.

"how does all that work, exactly?" you were never one for machines—good thing you have a mechanic boyfriend!

he looks to you, a happy glimmer in his eyes. "you really wanna know? so basically— this part connects to that part and then..."

you don't know how long you've been zoned out, too busy staring at his perfect

"y/n?" he finally realizes you haven't been paying attention. "you with me, now?" he raises an eyebrow with a grin on his face.

"huh? what?" you straightened up, fumbling over your words. "yeah! why wouldn't i be?" you tried to act as if you weren't just ogling him seconds before.

"oh y'know.. cause you were checking me out." he winked, leaning back against the engine as he put himself on display. "i mean, you obviously couldn't help it. i mean, look at me!"

someone humble him

its not like he doesn't do the same tho

if he accidentally walks in on you he'd be like "oh my gods-! sorry!" and cover his eyes with his hands, but his fingers are parted so he could still look through. literally the 🫣 emoji

"GET OUT!"

"OKAY I'M GOING DON'T HIT ME- OW!"

he is SUPER ticklish and you WILL use this to your advantage

esp his ears

one time you touched them out of curiosity cause theyre pointer than average and he was like "eek!"

pause

"aww i didn't know you could make that sound!" you poked some more fun at him because that was adorable

"shut up!"

another time he's laying on you, ruining your plans of getting up early and being active. you tried rolling out from underneath him but his arms snake around you like a vice, squeezing a groan out of you.

"leo get off!" you tried shoving him off, but that didn't work either. he simply buried his face into your neck, mumbling a tired no.

you really had shit to do, so you resorted to the last possible tactic. "i didn't wanna have to do this..." you warned. (you so wanted to do this)

you slipped your hands under his shirt and started tickling his stomach, effectively getting him writhing off you with laughter.

"stop-! that tickles!" he tried doing the same back, but he was squirming far too much.

ok real talk now

love loves staying up late with you until its past midnight and you guys are just rambling about random topics. he's just so relaxed with you, his heart feels so full and there's no space anymore, so his bottled up emotions spill out

which is usually a closely-guarded secret because he's just the funny guy of the group, right?

what does he know about feelings? isn't it his job to just keep everyone else happy? joking about everything will take away the pain, won't it?

(it doesn't)

"i don't know, i just- feel like i don't really fit in with everyone. they all have these cool powers, and i'm just.. me." he laughed dryly, face devoid of his usual happiness as he stared at the ceiling. "sometimes, i feel like you could do so much better. but at the same time?" his voice lowered as he rolled onto his side, staring into your eyes. "i want to keep you to myself. i really, really don't want to lose you."

you were glad he finally opened up to you, but your heart ached at the way he thought of himself. how could he not see how highly everyone thought of him, especially you?

"just you? leo, you're the coolest person i know. you're so, so smart, you can fix just about anything, you're funny, you're kind, you can cook; what's not to love?" you smiled softly. you could go on and on about this man. for him to think that he was the lucky one? it was quite the opposite.

"and you don't have to worry," you whispered, cuddling closer to him and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. "i'll always be with you."

#*ੈ✎ stories #leo valdez #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez x y/n #leo valdez x you #heroes of olympus x reader #hoo x reader #heroes of olympus #hoo #pjo hoo toa #pjo #pjo x reader #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #percy jackon and the olympians

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freakshowtwopointoh · 7 months

Note

Hi!! Can I request jealous Jordan li where reader is spending a lot of time with someone else, maybe for a school project or something and Jordan notices and is like, nope, not happening, this one's mine bc they're so in love with reader and want all of the attention

Whew, that was a lot, haha,

Thank you!!!!

*not sure if u want established partners or situationship w feelings or something else, but i think imma go with situationship bc thats always the vibe for jordan lol if u want more established relationship lmk*

Debate club was a sensible extracurricular, and you had been doing it since your school stopped having model UN in 9th grade. It wasn't your favorite thing in the world, but you liked to argue, so it worked out. This week, you were arguing the "for" case with your teammate for the semester, Blake Mathers. He's a grating sophomore with floppy hair, and telekinesis powers you've only seen him use to enable his own laziness. The head of the club was nice enough, but he was insistent on "teamwork" when you'd much rather write alone. It was exhausting, trying to filter your thoughts and opinions, and allowing others to shine was not your style.

You try to pay attention to what Blake was saying about the topic, but all you were thinking about was Jordan Li. Ever since you made out at one of Dusty's infamous parties, they had invaded your senses and your thoughts. They'd catch you staring during class, or you'd wear a tiny skirt to a party, and you'd end up in a closet, or a car, or a bedroom, all limbs and heavy breathing.

"Um, hello? Did you hear me?" You shake your head.

"Sorry. Say that again?"

"The argument we wrote yesterday. It's gone - my computer got fucked." Ah, crap. This is the second time Blake's stupidity has made you re-do work. You'd done some research at the start of the week, and he'd forgotten to mention the topic had been changed. You sigh.

"Well, fuck. Alright, let's go back to the library then." You turn around and start walking, trying not to show your disappointment. You'd been hoping to "run into" Jordan at the JitterBean - hence the tight-ass skinny jeans.

Waste of an outfit, you think bitterly, pushing open the glass doors and setting up at the table that you and Blake had been using to do your assignments. Thankfully you'd saved your notes from yesterday, so you began reconstructing your argument while Blake screwed off.

You weren't paying much attention to what he was doing until you saw him fucking with Justine. Now there's some bullying you can get behind. You giggle, and watch as he makes another paper airplane fly around her head. She glares over at him and storms out, which makes you laugh out loud. The librarian glares, and you exchange a guilty look with Blake before getting back into writing.

The afternoon goes by easily after that. You were vaguely aware of other students milling about or studying nearby, but you were in the zone. Finally, at almost 8, the argument was done, and you saved it in multiple places just in case.

You wave goodbye to Blake, happy that the session went reasonably ok and the work was done. Saturday's debate was going to be a blast.

"Have fun on your little date with Mathers?" Jordan was leaning against the outside wall of the library, expression unreadable.

"Is the infamous Jordan Li jealous?" Their eyes harden slightly.

"Not jealous, just lookin out for you. He's a moron." They begin walking beside you, not acknowledging how unhinged they were behaving. Just looking out for you? If they weren't so damn hot, you might slap them. But the fact that they were asking meant.... something, right? You ignored how that made your heart swoop and just kept walking.

"We have debate club together, and he keeps fucking shit up, that's all." You say, in spite of yourself. If you were smarter, you'd let them wonder what you were doing with him. But you couldn't keep from looking at them, and feeling disappointed you can't make out any relief in their eyes. But then, their arm is snaked around your waist and their lips are at your ear.

"You wear those skin fucking tight jeans to just study with him?" You grit your teeth, forcing your mouth to not say what you wanted so desperately to say: 'No, I wore them for you, and you're clearly the idiot if you can't tell that I am so wrapped around your finger that I will dress up just in case I see you.' and just roll your eyes instead. They let their hand slide from your waist to your back pocket, daring you to stop them. And of course you don't. With every inch their hand travels, your heart skips another beat. When they squeeze your ass ever so slightly, a whimper sneaks out before you can stop it.

And with that, you're being pressed against a tree and their lips are on your neck.

"Fuck, J." You curse as their teeth sink into your skin.

"You're mine, baby. Only mine." They murmur in your ear.

"Always have been." You say back, almost moaning as they continue their assault on your neck. They pull away at this.

"Yeah? That why you're spending all your time with Mathers and co instead of me, in such," They pause to run their hands on your hips, pulling you tight against them. "delicious clothes."

"I thought you weren't jealous." You murmur, sliding your hand up their back. "But I wore these, and what's underneath, for you and you alone. He's just a moron who's forced me to re-do my work twice this week alone."

"Oh, you poor baby. Let me take you up and make everyone hear who really owns you." You barely hold back a moan as they drag you up to your dorm to fulfill their promise.

#jordan li #gen v #gen v prime #jordan li x reader #gen v smut #gen v fic #jordan li imagine #request #reqs open

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ncteez · 2 years

Text

On Edge. (m.l)

Dating the strict, well-liked, and loving Doyoung came with its hurdles. Normally, the two of you could communicate and work through the downsides, but what if the newest downside of the relationship is learning that his little brother, Mark, has a bit of a thing for you?

ao3 | m.list | minors dni !! | if you read it, reblog it.

WORDCOUNT― 22.5k

PAIRING― mark lee x fem reader | doyoung x fem reader

CONTENT― doyoung is 27, reader is 25, mark is 22. boyfriend doyoung, perverted/shy college boy mark, panty stealing, hidden intimacy, needy mark, dom-ish doyoung in smaller/less detailed smut scenes, reader is definitely a switch depending on who she is looking at, uh, brief mention of haechan raging at mark through a headset while he gets pleasured lmao

WARNINGS― infidelity that doesn’t get exposed, foot job but only bc i can’t figure out how to write a scene like this if it’s not her foot lmao

NOTE― not me back at it again with the cheating fics. Idk, i have a thing for mark cucking but also hidden things, and the idea of having both of them :D no, i do not condone cheating.. shoutout to my wife and other ultimate mark fucker @mrkis for discussing and brainstorming this shit with me, also for editing it and fixing all of my embarrassing typos.

smut tags under cut::

smut tags― infidelity, rough doyoung, mark listens through the walls, tons of masturbation, he also steals panties and gets caught and embarrassed by reader, mentions of double penetration, lil under the table moment with mark, foot job but i swear im not into feet just hear me out ok? It’s brief i swear, sexting and phone sex, reach-around hand job, mark isn’t entirely subby when he finally gets his dick wet, penetration, pet names, g-spot stimulation, cream pie, unprotected sex,

The two years you’ve spent so far with Doyoung can arguably be considered the best of your life. He’s accommodating, listens to all of your problems, touches you in all of the right ways, and he’s even well-liked by your parents. You love your boyfriend enough to spend countless nights at his place just to get away from your own. It’s comfortable there, and feels like home, whereas your own apartment just feels empty without him.

The relationship felt very adult. He was the first boyfriend to stay with you longer than a couple of months, the first one to have his own house, job, money, and car. The two of you were equal, comfortable, and happily in love. Anyone could trust that both of you were running towards the path of marriage, and you’d agree with them if it wasn’t for the fact that your eye is dangerously landing on someone else lately.

In your defense, your eyes didn’t linger before Mark, Doyoung’s younger brother, moved in. You had no interest in anyone aside from Doyoung. But– Mark is really something else. Cute, loud, obnoxious, and even charming at times. Still, you’ve caught him countless times staring for too long at your legs when you wear shorts around the house, lingering in the room when Doyoung has his lips on yours, and even stuttering through conversations with you after a wild night in the bedroom with his older brother.

It was cute at first, but as the months went on, you started staring at Mark a little more. You’d note that he gets flustered easily but can’t bring himself to leave any given situation that causes such a reaction. He gets hard sometimes too, you can see it, and occasionally you can hear him take care of it too.

The first night you heard it, Doyoung was sound asleep next to you after a long, drawn-out session of putting you in your place(sexually). You were comfortable beside him, listening to his soft snores and finally settling yourself in to close your eyes and sleep too.

It was so silent, the entire house seemed as empty as it always had been outside of you and your boyfriend, except for the fact that Mark is in this house now too. You shoot an eye open at the sound of a muffled moan through the wall. You could tell he tried to prevent it, noticing that it appeared to be choked back almost as quickly as he let it fall from his lips.

You lay there, first attempting to sleep but ultimately falling victim to the thoughts of what Mark must have been doing just a wall over. You felt guilty about the images, imagining how cute he must look tugging at himself and whimpering, frustrated at how he can’t make a sound. Mark knows how thin the walls are, you’re sure of it. Even you and Doyoung have tried to be quieter so Mark doesn’t have to hear it and feel uncomfortable.

The choked-back sounds he was letting out every few minutes only furthered your thoughts into the danger zone. You realized you wanted to watch him. You wanted to help him. As Mark hit his high, you hear his bed frame hit the wall one time, hard. The image of him lying on his back and fucking against his fist was long gone, now images of what position he could have been in for the bed to hit the wall fills your mind. What was he doing?

“Good morning sunshine!” You sing out to your boyfriend when he rounds the corner in a sleepy show of how much he doesn’t want to go to work today. He’s already dressed but you can see the darkened bags under his drooping, half-open eyes.

You don’t often make breakfast for him, not that he minds at all, you just felt guilty about listening in on Mark doing his thing again last night and it’s not something you’re proud of. So yeah, maybe Doyoung gets breakfast every time his little brother jerks off, what of it?

“Thanks, babe,” Doyoung smiles at you weakly, looking at the warm breakfast you place in front of him. “What if I just call in today?” He asks almost immediately after, tearing his eyes from the food and up to you who had begun to fix a part of his hair that he seemed to have missed.

“Up to you, I’ve gotta head back to my place soon though.” You look at him, hands on your hips now as you give him another once-over. “You look tired, maybe you should call out.”

Doyoung takes a moment to think. What would his excuse be to miss work on a Monday morning after already having two days off? He’s sick? That wouldn’t work, he ran into one of his bosses just the night before picking up some groceries. Car trouble? Also wouldn’t work, he used that excuse last time and he swore he took his car to the shop that very day to make sure it was in tip-top shape. Death in the family? That’s just asking for bad karma.

“Ugh,” Doyoung sighs, picking up his fork and picking around the plate. It looks delicious, honestly, but work is the last place he wants to go right now. “How are you so awake? We stayed up so late, are your legs even tired?”

You stop mid-step towards the fridge to grab some juice and turn to look at him.

“Doyoung, my legs are killing me, and it’s your fault.”

He lets out a small laugh, giving himself a gold star for making you come just as hard as he always did. “Yeah, guess it is my fault, isn’t it?” He prods for more compliments.

“That aside, are you going to call out or?”

He shakes his head, taking a bite and trying his best to enjoy this last hour of freedom before a nine-hour workday.

“No, I don’t think I’d have a good excuse today. You’re going home anyway too, I’d just be bored,”

“Umm–” Mark’s voice chimes in as he scuffs into the kitchen with socked feet. He yawns wide and side-eyes you only for a moment before flopping down on the chair next to Doyoung with his legs spread wide. He looks like such a college boy. Looking equally as tired as your boyfriend and hair far messier, you note his side eye. “Are you saying I’m too boring to hang out with?”

You let out a small chuckle at Mark’s words, and Doyoung just groans about it.

“You’re still just as annoying as you’ve always been. I’d rather be wasting away at a desk than sitting here listening to you talk about the exam you’re not studying for.”

“I don’t have exams yet?” Mark protests, looking over Doyoungs food and swiping a piece from his plate. “The semester hasn’t even started.”

“I’m preparing for what’s to come–” Doyoung drones on in a defeated voice.

“Fair,” Mark smiles and looks at you. “So, um, you’re going home today?”

“Yep, gotta go to work too.” You sigh, pointing towards the stove. “Want some food?”

Mark shuffles to his feet to make himself a plate with a small “thank you”, and you can’t help but notice how disappointed he sounds that you’re going home today.

“You’re coming over on Wednesday though, right?” Doyoung asks, sipping the mug of coffee in front of him and finally allowing himself to enjoy the food you’ve graciously made this morning. If he’s gonna have to go to work, the least he can do is feel lucky that he’s not going in on an empty stomach.

“What’s on Wednesday again?” You smile towards your boyfriend’s now narrowing eyes.

“You know what Wednesday is.”

“Hm, no, don’t think I do–” Smiling wider at the way his eyes narrow even further.

“What’s Wednesday?” Mark asks, setting down his plate and taking a bite.

“Yeah, tell him what Wednesday is,” Doyoung says in an annoyed tone, one that you can tell is a joke. He always plays along with your antics.

“I think it’s like, national fork day or something.”

Doyoung brings a hand to his forehead with a laugh. “Fork day? That’s all you can come up with?!”

Mark is just confused, what’s so fucking great about forks anyway?

“I’m joking. It’s our two-year anniversary,”

You hear a spoon clatter to the table and a small cough.

“Ugh-” Mark groans, picking the cutlery up off the table and wiping the crumbs clean. “That’s cool.”

Mark can see the way Doyoung looks at him with his reaction, but it genuinely wasn’t intentional. He just happened to drop his spoon at the wrong time and choke on his food. It wasn’t meant to be as dramatic as it sounded. Also, maybe he’s a little shocked that Doyoung managed to have a girlfriend for this long with how much of a bore he can be at times.

Especially someone like you. Mark feels shy at the very idea of you, not just because he’s heard what you sound like when his brother touches you, but also because you’re just, like, really pretty and it makes his thoughts go in every direction when you speak to him. Even now, just over a small breakfast, he’s disappointed that you have a job too. He’s sad that he can’t spend time in this house with you alone even though he knows well enough that he probably wouldn’t have it in him to approach you. Or does he? Knowing that from time to time, like when he first moved in, there had been some days where you stayed over and did your work-from-home stuff. He wasn’t well acquainted with you back then enough to come out and sit with you, and he’s likely not acquainted enough now either, but that doesn’t change the fact that he kind of wants to be around you without his brother taking note of the small crush he kind of maybe developed by being around you.

Today is expected to be more exciting than your last anniversary. Mostly because it’s marking a second year with Doyoung and solidifying the fact that the two of you have made it this far without any glaring issues that could threaten the relationship. At least, no issues that Doyoung is aware of. You think that these thoughts and images of Mark swimming in your head are a phase. There’s no way you’d ever actually go through with anything involving your boyfriend’s little brother. He’s just kind of cute to see all flustered, even cuter when he tries to hide how he’s feeling regarding you.

Mark isn’t there when you walk through your boyfriend’s door. Unfortunately, neither is Doyoung. Grabbing your phone and checking the time you’re distracted by the glaring text message from your boyfriend that seemed to have been sent some ten minutes ago as you got in your car for the drive over. A little wave of disappointment hits you as you stand alone in the darkened kitchen.

Doie: hey i’m gonna be a little late. Boss got a last minute client today like an hour before closing time so i’m gonna be here at least until 8:30, is that okay?

The disappointment fades away with how good he is at communicating with you. Your last boyfriend who you only dated for like two months always bailed without notice on dates, ghosting you for a full day or two before explaining himself with one of the same excuses Doyoung probably uses to get out of work. You know his job is important to him, and you know the anniversary is important to him. His priority doesn’t always have to be you.

You: Yeah that’s fine. What am i supposed to do for three hours though?I’m already at your place (sparkly eye emoji)

Doyoung was great at texting you back too.

Doie: you could get yourself ready for me to come home ;)

You: for three hours?

Doie: yes???? or you can just go bug mark lol

The silence in the house tells you that Mark isn’t home.

You: he’s not here, i figured he went out to give us some privacy?

Doyoung doesn’t respond for a few minutes, probably because he’s doing something important with his work. By the time you’ve slipped off your shoes and laid against the couch, you get the little ping on your phone.

Doie: Oh, right, he was gonna go meet with some girl he was talking to. I figured he’d chicken out and not go lol, maybe we really will have the house to ourselves tonight ;)

Something inside of you twisted at his message. On one hand, you’re happy that you might get the entire house with your beloved boyfriend tonight, on the other hand, you kind of don’t like the thought of Mark losing the ability to get all flustered around you if he’s got someone else doing it for him. Are you jealous? No, but you’re a little selfish. You always liked when men chased you even if you knew it would lead nowhere, even if they knew it would lead to nowhere. It was harmless fun, but now all of your fun is gonna be ruined. The last thing you want to be hearing is Mark railing some girl in his room while you’re trying to sleep.

You: oh yeah? lets hope we don’t have to be quiet tonight then, i have //plans//

Doie: plans?

You: better do well on your work so you can come home and see <3

With that, you set your phone down and reach for the remote. Mark is out with a girl right now? Part of you wonders how he’s navigating it, or if the girl is actually into him. The images in your head are amusing until you realize that you’re not imagining him stumbling over himself with some faceless girl. You’re imagining yourself as the girl he’s out with.

Still, even on your anniversary, you’re bored and you’ve got some hours to kill. You sort through all sorts of images in your head. From what Mark would do if you were to reject him to what he would do if you didn’t reject him. How he would act if you were leaning in to kiss him, or how he would react if you kissed his neck, started touching his stomach, trailing your hands down– straight until you’re assuming that Mark must be getting a hand job somewhere right now. A little disappointed that it’s not you, you laugh at yourself.

Silly thoughts like these are normal, and you’re sure Doyoung has them too. Despite the fact that you’d be weirded out if it were about your little sister if you had one. You’re not hurting anyone passing the time and thinking about how things would go with Mark. Surely not. Doyoung was never shy toward you. Always shooting his shot in charming and convincing ways that have managed to lead to a two-year relationship that’s still going strong. He didn’t leave as much to the imagination at the beginning of your relationship, nor does he now. You can’t even imagine Doyoung being insecure or lacking confidence in anything he does, but then there’s Mark. The little brother appears to live in the shadow of Doyoung. From Mark attending college for the same thing to wanting the same woman that Doyoung is in love with.

Are you too full of yourself for chuckling about that? Laughing at the fact that he’s so entirely different from your boyfriend but that’s the exact reason you find yourself fantasizing about the ‘what if’s’ with him? Now the thought of what Mark would do if he knew you were thinking about him this way infiltrates your mind. Would he panic? Surely. Would he blush? Oh yeah, for sure. Would he try to play it off as a joke until realizing you’re serious, visibly shivering as you watch him imagine? Oh– would he tell Doyoung? Would he get cocky? So many thoughts that are both scary, cute, and…hot.

You look at the clock on your phone again and realize how slowly the time is passing. Mark’s out getting tugged at by some girl, Doyoung is at work being an obedient employee, and what are you doing? Sitting on the couch in a daze as if you’ve just smoked the biggest blunt full of the most high-quality weed.

Glancing around a bit, you shake your head at a specific thought. Mark’s room.

Against your better judgment and several hours on hand to spend, you find yourself in Mark’s room. You didn’t know why your legs carried you here, but then again you kind of did. Curiosity. You didn’t really plan on snooping or anything, you just kind of wanted to see how he lives when he’s by himself. You wanted to see if he made his bed or folded his clothes, and when you note that the loser definitely does not do either of those things, a flash of pastel blue is catching your attention.

In the mess of Mark’s room, monochrome colors of black and grey come through the most. From sweatpants to band t-shirts, you weren’t expecting to see a glimmer of pastel silk peeking from under one of his pillows.

It wouldn’t have caught your attention if it wasn’t for the fact that you recognize the color and even remember the day you purchased them. Those are your panties stuffed under Mark’s pillow.

You find yourself smirking in an evil kind of way as you make your way toward the dainty fabric and pull it from the pillow. You can confirm it now, they’re yours, and you remember wearing them just the past weekend you were over. It was normal for you to leave some of your laundry at Doyoung’s place after staying the weekend, it’s not like you weren’t here multiple times a week or anything.

Mark must have taken them from the laundry basket in the bathroom. The thought of him that morning when you made breakfast, acting as casual and normal as ever. The harsher thought of how you listened to him again after Doyoung had fallen asleep the night before, furiously reaching his climax.

You spread the fabric against your fingers and laugh at the stain on them. This must have been what he was using that night, thinking of you, surely, right? God, Doyoung would kill him if he found out.

And just as you go to look around to see if he’s stolen more of your intimate wares, you hear the front door open, and you panic, shoving the panties into your back pocket and rushing out of his room to the bathroom just across the hallway.

In your slight panic, you manage to stand by the bathroom door and listen to the footsteps coming down the hallway. It’s definitely Mark because Doyoung would have called you to let you know he was coming home. Checking the clock again, it’s barely six and you’ve now got two or so hours pretending that you didn’t just find your panties in Mark’s room. Or, maybe, you don’t have to pretend. Maybe you can just fluster and embarrass him more now.

You reach over and flush the toilet and then step to the sink to actually wash your hands because you definitely were just handling cum-stained panties, and then you step out of the bathroom acting surprised that he’s here.

“Oh!” You exclaim, stepping out of the bathroom and looking directly at Mark through his bedroom door as he’s in the middle of throwing himself against the bed in frustration. “Hey, didn’t think you’d be here today?”

Mark nearly jumps out of his skin despite knowing someone was in the bathroom. He wasn’t expecting to be addressed by you or Doyoung today.

“Yeah, me neither.” He groans, throwing his hand over his face. “You scared the fuck outta me–”

“Aw, why so nervous?” You ask, taking a step forward and leaning against the doorframe to his room, crossing your arms. “Doyoung said you were on a date or something,”

Mark groans again, lifting his back from the mattress to sit up and shaking his head in defeat. The fact that you’re talking to him right now only makes him feel worse. He’s embarrassed enough by the happenings of the past hour or so, now he has to sit here and answer your questions about it?

“Yeah, I was supposed to be but she ended up just using me as a ploy.”

You only chuckle because of course that’s the type of shit that’ll happen to him, but also like, you’re kind of glad the date wasn’t a date, even if he didn’t know it.

“A ploy?”

“Turns out, she was just trying to make some guy jealous. He literally served us. ”

“Oh yeah? Then what happened?” You question, prying now.

“When he was coming up to the table, she told me to kiss her so I did. Then as soon as he walked away, she was back on her phone and texting. She accidentally texted me I guess, saying that ‘the plan is working, he’s definitely jealous’.” Mark mocks the text message in a whiny voice.

You laugh a little louder this time, eyes darting to the pillow he had your panties tucked under.

“Why are you laughing? I am miserable.” Mark is casual when he talks about it, but you note that he lets out a small chuckle too. “Why would someone even use me to make a guy jealous?”

You freeze for a second. Here’s your first opening.

“Because you’re cute?”

Mark freezes now too, glancing away from you with what you think is that shyness you’d seen so much before. It was definitely shyness. Out of everything that’s just happened, at least you think he’s cute, but it’s not like he can have you or actually use your compliment as an ego boost considering you’re dating his big brother.

“Anyway,” You offer an out, noting his avoidance a little more now that you know what he’s been doing in his free time with your personal items. “Doyoung will be home later for our anniversary, sorry for what you’re gonna hear later–”

Second opening.

“I know it’s weird to ask but I left a cute pair of panties last time I was here. They’re his favorite. I can’t find them.”

Mark stands to his feet quickly and casually throws his jacket over the pillow you had pulled them from earlier. Upon the very mention of your panties, he feels caught like he’s got three shining spotlights directed at him to tell you he stole them.

“I don’t know, what color were they?” He awkwardly asks, trying to avoid looking at you, not even questioning that you’re asking him when you’ve never so much as asked what he does in his free time. He can’t even tell that he’s telling on himself right now.

“Light blue, silk.” You deadpan, looking at him.

“Oh, I might have seen them in the laundry. I’ll go look.”

Before you can even protest, Mark is shuffling past you and rushing towards the laundry room. You follow behind him casually, not in the slightest bit of a hurry.

“I already checked in here. The dirty laundry too.”

“Did you check Doyoung’s drawers? He did laundry yesterday, they’re probably in there.”

Mark is talking so fast that it’s almost sad. Still, it’s fun.

“Smart boy.” You compliment with a finger in the air, walking towards Doyoung’s room just to see what Mark would do next when you tell him they’re not there.

You lazily look through all of your panties stuffed into Doyoung’s drawers and head back out to Mark’s room. Quietly, you peek around the door and only laugh at him when you see his pillow is overturned and he’s digging through a clothes pile in the corner of his room on the floor. The fact that he didn’t even close his door is hilarious, but you imagine it was an afterthought considering time was against him.

“Did you find them?” You ask, watching him nervously stop searching and stay in place on the floor facing away from you. You could practically tell the cold sweat that hit him.

“N-no.” He says quickly. “Did you?”

“Yep.” You say, pulling the panties out of your pocket.

Mark relaxes, choosing to believe that somehow, the panties he had tucked under his pillow managed to walk themselves to the laundry room, step into the washer, then the dryer, and then place themselves neatly into Doyoung’s drawer. Never will he let himself think that you found them, or even worse, Doyoung.

When his shoulders relax and he turns to look at you, you see him stiffen up just as much as before when you swing the panties around your finger, stopping to present them in a way that shows the massive cum stain.

“Guess Doyoung needs to find a new favorite, huh?” You joke, tossing them onto Mark’s bed and walking away.

As you walk down the hallway with a smile on your face you can hear Mark’s frantic footsteps rush up behind you.

“Wait! It’s not–” He tries to explain the situation away. “It’s not what it looks like!”

“My panties under your pillow aren't what it looks like?” You turn to face him at the end of the hallway, and with the way he was quickly following you, he runs directly into you and has to stumble back from the close proximity of you in front of him. He’s never even touched you before. Never hugged you, prodded you, or even looked at you for too long when your eyes were already on him.

“No,” He goes to say, but you interrupt him.

“Mark, you’re lucky it was me who found them and not your brother.”

“I know,” Mark stutters out, looking to the floor. “But really, I didn’t mean to-”

“If you didn’t mean for me to find them, you should have stuffed them further back. They were hanging out for anyone to see, Mark.”

He stops for a moment. You’re telling him how he should have hidden them?

“Wait–”

Only now does Mark realize your comment of Doyoung needing to find a new favorite pair of underwear before you toss them back on his bed. He’s gotta be thinking too positively to imagine you’re giving him the panties and offering tips on how to keep them from Doyoung, right? Like you only gave them back because you’re disgusted by him, right?

“Really, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I took them.”

And admittance. You feel like you’ve won the game, and you’re definitely in the position to ask more questions.

“Why did you take them in the first place?” You ask, taking a step towards him to make him feel overwhelmed.

Mark takes another step back, feeling frozen when his eyes glance up at yours. He can’t pull his eyes away this time with the way you’re looking at him. There’s a smirk against your lips and he can’t sense a single bit of anger. Cautiously, he tries to make another excuse.

“I don’t know why.” He deadpans, staring down at you as you look at him and take another step forward.

“I think we both know why you stole them.” You smile wider, lifting slightly to where you’re just inches from his face. “Did you think of me?”

“Yeah,” He sighs out, somewhat lost in your gaze as if he has managed to become hypnotized by the way you’re speaking with him. Then he shakes himself out of it, taking a step back with a muttered out string of “I mean, no!”

You close in against him just as you did before, not allowing him to escape the hold you have on him. You’re just as close as you were before he stepped back, and you continue.

“You did? Do you listen in on what Doyoung does to me too?”

Mark takes another step back, this time knowing full well that you’ll just follow him again. And you do, practically walking him back through the hallway and against the wall after passing his room.

“I mean,” He admits. “Sometimes.”

You smile as he tries to back himself up further against the wall.

“Why not all the time?” You follow up, watching the way his lip quivers a bit from the nervousness within him. Unbearably cute is what Mark is at this moment, trapped and caught.

“You guys get too quiet, I guess?” He answers as if it’s his own question, wondering if it’s what you want to hear. His belly is doing flips though, admitting these things to you and feeling as if you’ll make fun of him, mock him, tell on him.

“You’re too quiet sometimes too.” You smile before backing away and turning to walk back toward the end of the hallway.

Mark hangs his head wondering what the fuck just happened and if you were actually implying certain things toward him. He can barely bring himself to care that you hear him masturbate. He tries to be quiet, honestly, he does. But it’s hard sometimes when he’s rubbing his cock against the silk of the panties you just gave back to him, even harder when he’s hearing you through the walls and he imagines if you’d make the same sounds for him.

Pulled from his thoughts, he hears you turn the volume up on the tv before shouting at him.

“Oh, and Mark?” You say, waiting for him to respond quietly from out of view.

“Yeah?” He responds as he makes his way back to his room.

“I’ll make sure to be louder tonight.”

Mark closes his bedroom door feeling like his body is on fire and like his mind is spiraling into a place where it shouldn’t be.

When Doyoung got home, Mark made it his mission to not step foot out of his bedroom until the two of you were passed out. Thankfully, he had taken a quick bathroom break while also trying to avoid letting you hear that he left his room right before Doyoung came back.

Mark almost feels like prey right now, but he’s entirely too confused about the entire situation. He tried to be a good person and not fantasize about his brother’s girlfriend by making a tinder profile, but even now as he scrolls through all of the pretty faces, he knows that none of them would just let him steal their panties like you did. Not that it’s a hobby of his or anything, he saw your panties and he took the chance to give him a better orgasm next time around. Now he’s kind of obsessed with the idea though.

He had already placed the panties back under his pillow and stuffed them further back by now, and hearing you and Doyoung in the living room doing couple-things didn’t really help the confusion in his head. If you’re in there all lovey-dovey with his brother, why did you get up so close to him earlier? Why did you offer to be louder for him? Why did you do any of what you did?

It felt wrong that everything just made him want you more. Before, he was just being a horny guy, but now he’s like, maybe only horny for you.

Maybe it’s just a phase, surely it’ll pass. He loves his brother.. Then he finds himself questioning if that’s the truth as the night goes on.

Jealousy is a hateful demon. When he hears the shuffling into Doyoung’s room and the giggles coming from both of you, Mark almost wants to hit someone. Why can’t he have that? Why does Doyoung always get to experience the good things in life?

Not only was Mark used by some pretty girl today, he is now being shown yet again what he can’t have and will probably never have. The jealousy is only worse now, as he faceplants into his pillow and considers moving back in with his parents so that way he can stop wanting what his brother has.

The consideration is furthered when he grows frustrated at the sounds of you through the wall. He can even hear Doyoung shush you a few times. Against Mark’s will, his cock starts to grow against the mattress and his thigh, fingers now tucking further under the pillow to find those silk panties that caused his ultimate demise today.

When he runs his fingers along the fabric, still tucked beneath the pillow, he whines to himself at how pathetic it is for him to keep doing this. Only when he realizes that you’re over there being fucked and being loud specifically for him to hear does he pull them out and roll over onto his back.

All confusion and worry is left behind now as he replaces those anxieties with the idea of you grinding against him while wearing these panties. He thinks about how you like it, how you move your body, what you’d do with your hands.

His cock twitches to be free just a few moments later and he doesn’t think twice about lowering his sweatpants and staring down at himself. He sighs in defeat, noting how much harder he is now compared to the nights before when he weakly worked himself up to the faint sounds of you

From across the wall though, you’re enjoying yourself far too much. Mark kind of falls into the back of your guilty mind as your boyfriend loves on you. Doyoung came home excited, a hand was on you the entire time from the moment he walked through the door until now. Both hands are on you now as he praises you and pries your legs open. Usually, Doyoung was rougher. He’d do things that drive you insane, edge you, and deny you pleasure over and over again until he felt it was time to let you let go. The added attempts to be silent only made it more fun for your boyfriend, gagging you with his cock, fingers, or even your own panties. Tonight was a little different considering it marks the two-year anniversary of his relationship with you.

The plan you had for Doyoung tonight was for him to use a new toy on you that you’d bought in secret. He always wanted to try double penetration with you but was never willing to share you, and you don’t mind. You still wanted to fulfill one of his fantasies though, and that’s what the intention was. To your surprise though, Doyoung leaves the toy still in its package on the table and has been eating you out for a solid twenty minutes already.

He’s focusing on you entirely at this moment and it’s got your head spinning with the way his wet tongue flicks your clit while his lips envelop the entire bud. He’s so good at it, and usually only does this when you’ve been extra good for him like if you willingly choke on his entire length or you let him overstimulate you to the point that getting head from him is painful.

His head is between your legs lapping away and all you can do is groan out for him, enjoying the way he’s being gentle and pointed with his tongue. His hands go from your legs to keep them from crushing his head to reaching up to massage your tits. He doesn’t even try to silence you, and you’re thankful to keep your promise to Mark despite not actually trying to right now. And when Doyoung pulls his head back for a breath, he looks up at you and smiles in such a genuine way that it has your heart crashing with the amount of love you have for him.

Doyoung loses patience with giving you head after the thirty-minute mark. He wanted to make you come this way and make it last as long as possible, but now he’s feeling neglected and the image of you with that toy you got for him to use is burning images in his mind the more he hears you moan for him.

“Changed my mind,” Doyoung speaks out as he pulls back from your core and abandons your clit entirely. He hears you whimper at the loss of pressure and always loved the way you sounded when you did it. He finds himself reaching for the toy a little quicker than he already was.

“Play with yourself while I get this ready,” He smiles at you, giving you a quick kiss to the forehead before fumbling with the box.

The fact that Mark could hear his brother tell you to play with yourself made him feel insane. Only because of the way you started moaning again and gave him more to think about. The thought of walking in on you one day with your fingers inside of yourself, not quite reaching where you want them to, asking him to take over for you.

Mark almost wants to put his ear to the wall and takes a moment to ask himself why he wouldn’t do that anyway. He wants to hear you.

Cock still in hand and tangled against your panties, he shuffles to his feet and presses his ear against the wall. You sound much more clear now, He chokes back his own moan, knowing you’d probably hear it more clearly too considering how loud he is. Knowing you could hear him means Doyoung would also hear him, so he tries his best to hold it back as he starts thrusting himself against the silk in his hand.

He did well until he heard a choked-out whimper, a slap, and some crude words coming from his brother’s lips. On any other day of listening in, his hard-on would instantly go down hearing his brother but what he says to you through these thin as fuck walls has Mark choking back his own whimper.

“You like being stuffed with two?” Mark heard at first, followed by another whimper from you. “You’re so wet, it slid right in beside me–”

Mark can’t even imagine what’s being done to you right now but he can tell you’re loving it in the way your whimpers turn to full-fledged moans that he’s never heard before.

“Oh, fuck–” Mark groans out towards himself, looking down at his painfully hard cock against your panties. He starts to move his hand this time, faster than what his hips were doing. Only part of him is trying to match the sounds of skin slapping skin, moving his hand much faster than what he’s hearing happen to you. He’s sure you’d moan like that for him too. Wouldn’t even need two to make you be so loud, surely.

And then he’s starting to shake, rolling his head a bit to where his forehead is against the wall. Shamelessly, he whispers his own words to you as he begins to release against your panties. Words of, ‘yeah, you like that?’ and “Better than him, right?”

When Mark backs away from the wall, allowing the muffled sound of your loud moaning to be further and further from his ear, he collapses on his bed in a deep breath and then trails his eyes back over towards the wall. You’re right there. You know exactly what he was doing in here but now he can’t tell if you were actually being loud because you told him you would, or if it’s because Doyoung really is that good.

The jealousy hits again. It isn’t fair.

It’s been days since your anniversary and now that work is finished, you get to head back over for your regular weekend with Doyoung. Except you wonder how awkward it’s going to be. The soreness between your legs has gotten better but the guilt of how Mark avoided you the next morning got worse.

You think you should leave it be, you should just let him have those panties and pretend it never happened, pretend you never flirted with him, and pretend you didn’t tell him that you listen to him masturbate too. You went too far on your fucking anniversary then proceeded to fall even more in love with Doyoung.

Thankfully, you didn’t go far enough to where it couldn’t be salvaged, so when you leave today, you have the promise in your head that you will leave it alone. You will leave Mark alone and go back to what you were with Doyoung before you ever fantasized about his little brother.

Except that doesn’t happen because the moment you walk in and see Mark lounging by himself on the couch, shirtless, you find yourself avoiding him more than he was avoiding you. Though he immediately got up with a small apology and rushed towards his room, you had to stop yourself from turning around and going straight back home. Doyoung is there though, back turned towards you as he stirs something in a bowl.

“Hey, can you come to help me?” He asks, glancing at you from over his shoulder and showing the smallest glimpse of something smeared against his cheek.

Your heart warms at how domestic he looks right now, kicking your shoes off and heading towards him with your weekend bag.

“I'll be back in a minute, let me put my bag in your room.” You say, coming up behind him and planting a kiss on his shoulder. He nods to you before you walk out and towards his room.

Mark’s door is closed and you’re thankful for it as the image of his stupidly attractive shirtless body appears in your mind again. It’s stupid, honestly, you have a whole Doyoung in the kitchen waiting for you, who will probably make you come a minimum of three times tonight, and you’re panic-walking past his little brother’s bedroom because you’re incredibly fucking attracted to him.

Stupid.

The self-control you once had is no longer present in your head. The plan to leave it be is less and less attractive in your brain the more you take in the image of Mark in front of you at the table texting away on his phone. You watch him shamelessly as Doyoung goes back and forth in the kitchen. You’re almost completely skewed from his view as you sit here across from Mark. He’s wearing a shirt now, and only glancing at you from time to time but still not saying anything.

What happened to you avoiding him? No, what happened to him avoiding you?

From under the table, you gently kick against his leg to get his attention and his eyes snap up toward you. You look down though, ignoring him instead. But your leg stays there, occasionally kicking against him just to see how long it takes for him to stop reacting to it.

Scrolling through your own phone now, you’re swiping through videos, listening to Doyoung clattering through the cupboards, and feeling incredibly warm sitting in front of Mark. You don’t know what’s gotten into you when it comes to him, honestly. (It’s not like you knew how hard he came during your anniversary celebration.)

Finally, you slowly trail your eyes back up to his face and note that he does the same, at the exact same time. The two of you share a moment of silence looking at each other. You could almost feel his eyes pull you in without intent. It feels dangerous just to look at him, seeing him in a newer light than what you’d seen in him when it was just amusement on your end. You wonder if he can tell. Probably not.

He doesn’t look away from you, and you’re not sure why. He just stays still, silent, blinking back at you. Maybe he’s being pulled in too, like a secret agreement communicated just through eye contact. The electricity in the space between the two of you is nothing short of dangerous. Your body almost acts on its own when you raise your lips into a half smile at him and plant your foot on the chair between his legs.

Still keeping eye contact, you watch him jump at the action but he doesn’t move or push your foot away. Instead, he’s breaking eye contact and looking down, staring down, really, at how your socked foot is planted directly between his legs.

He doesn’t move, trailing his eyes back to you now with a curious look. You continue, pressing your foot forward just slightly. Mark jumps again and shoots his eyes to the opening of the kitchen. Doyoung is still facing away, stirring something in a pot on the stove.

Mark doesn’t know what the fuck is going on, or why he does it, but it’s like his hips press forward out of need rather than want. He knows it’s wrong to have you touching him in any way, even if it’s just your foot.

You smile wider, watching the way his face tries to stay casual as he gently scoots forward and presses himself further against your foot. Only now, satisfied, do you look back down to your phone as if you didn’t just do what you did, and like you’re not keeping your foot in place for Mark to grind against.

The fact that he’s actually doing that alone is enough for you to feel warm on the inside. All you were going to do was experimentally cross a line to see what would happen. This was a much better outcome than him rushing out of the room in a panic.

Offering more pressure against his weak grinds, you can tell he’s looking at you in disbelief and shifting his eyes to keep checking for Doyoung. Mostly because he grinds his hips forward a little harder when he notes that Doyoung doesn’t see anything, and when he moves more weakly, you assume your boyfriend must be moving around and able to easily see Mark fall apart. Alerting him that something is happening, even if he can’t see under the table due to the clean cloth he has draped over the table.

You smirk as you scroll to watch another video, feeling his cock harden against your foot, and god, he’s really that desperate? You hate how much you like it, and hate even more that you’re so fucking attracted to him doing this right now.

When you glance up, you note that Mark is really trying to concentrate on looking normal, but you can see him so clearly shifting his lower half and you speak up.

“Mark, have you seen this meme?” You fake laugh out loud, mostly to stop him from getting too into it and blowing the cover.

He jerks his hips back with an annoyed groan, realizes where he is and what’s between his legs, and then jumps into an act.

“N-no, I don’t think so,” He says nervously, leaning forward to see your phone.

You grab the collar of his shirt and pull him closer over the table, lifting him from his seat and whispering.

“You need to stop being obvious–” You whisper before releasing him and turning your phone to show him the video.

Mark lets out a fake laugh at the video before seating himself and looking dead into your eyes. Then he feels you adjust your foot again, this time further into his chair and seated directly against his painfully hard erection.

He doesn’t think he can just sit here and let this go on for too long but he doesn’t want you to stop either. It’s the first time you’ve actually come onto him and Doyoung is right fucking there. Mark decides to take what he can get, even if it’s just out of pity from you.

You’re shocked when you feel his hand grab your foot and hold it in place before very harshly grinding against it. Watching him from across the table, he’s somehow manages to make it not look obvious that he’s practically fucking one part of you, still, you find yourself falling apart at the way he parts his lips and bites the bottom one harshly. He’s focused solely on his phone, brows furrowed, but you can tell his eyes are vacant and he’s only focusing on how he’s feeling between his legs.

Just as quickly as he started, you feel him push your foot away and he’s scooting back in his chair.

“I left something in my room. I’ll be back.” Mark says sheepishly, looking to the floor and rushing into the hallway.

You watch him rush out of the room confused, so you look behind you hoping Doyoung didn’t like, make eye contact with him or something. It doesn’t appear he did though, because you see him waist-deep bent over in the fridge looking for something.

Mark needed to like, not come in his pants from that. He doesn’t fucking like feet, but he likes you. You offered pressure and he fucking took it. He needed to finish himself off and not have to sit there in cum-soiled pants pretending like it didn’t just happen. Naturally, he came to his room to finish himself off out of frustration. Thankfully he’s close enough to reach climax within two to three strokes, right there leaning against his door.

Embarrassed by the small sob he let out during his orgasm, he’s quick to rush to the bathroom and clean up before grabbing a hoodie from his room and throwing it on over the t-shirt, mostly so it does look like he came in here to grab something.

Not even five minutes pass before he’s sitting in front of you again. Mark feels helpless in the way he can no longer bring himself to avoid looking at you, all the way up until Doyoung peeks into the room and announces that he thinks he’s perfected the soup recipe, and is ready for you guys to come try it.

You, on the other hand, didn’t look at Mark after he came back. Not much, anyway. It’s not that you didn’t want to, it’s mostly just that you’re coming to terms with the fact that you just crossed a line and you’re not sorry about it. Even after Doyoung places a spoon at your lips and the soup was definitely the most delicious he’s ever made, and even after he’s got his arm around you at the table, across from his little brother who just eye fucked you while grinding against your foot.

The events of yesterday stayed fresh on your mind even as Doyoung lays next to you half-awake and scratching against his arm before cuddling in closer to you. He was so warm, and all you can do is wonder why you're risking this comfort to have fun with his little brother. You’ve already crossed a line and gone too far. You did exactly what you said you weren’t going to do and exactly what you never thought you could do. You’re probably not going to be able to stop even if you wanted to try again, so you opt to just–not think about when it’s gonna happen again or if it’s gonna happen again.

Saturday almost flies by and before you know it, all three of you are lounging in the living room to watch a movie. Usually, Mark isn’t as present when you’re with Doyoung but since everything started, he makes himself known much more. He includes himself in things and engages in more conversation. You wonder if it’s because he’s waiting for you to do something again. The worst part about all of it is that you can tell Doyoung is enjoying the time he’s spending with you and Mark together.

Even during this movie, Doyoung doesn’t think twice when you lean against him and throw your legs over Mark’s lap to get comfortable. Alternatively, Mark thinks three to four times over when you do it, opting to keep his hands at his sides when he steals a glance at you and notes that you’re comfortable under his brother’s arm.

The movie goes on like that and Mark can’t help but feel like it’s taking forever to be over with. Then again, he’s staring at your legs on his lap more than the movie on the screen. It gets worse when there's a jumpscare and your legs are tensing up and moving around against him. At least this time it’s not your fucking foot and he’s got a calf muscle to work with.

You did it both intentionally and unintentionally. You weren’t exactly throwing your legs on him to get him to rub against them or anything, it was mostly just to fluster him, but Mark proves himself as someone with zero self-control once again. You feel him twitch under your legs and shamefully, it makes you wet. Like, incredibly wet actually. And in your defense, it’s not like Mark hasn’t seen this happen before, never in an intimate setting like this, but you really can’t help yourself knowing that if you want to get fucked, you’ve got Doyoung right here to do it for you.

Adjusting yourself, you pull your legs from Mark and take a second to focus on his lap. The tent in his pants was obvious, but Doyoung pays no mind as his eyes stay on the screen. You watch the way Mark covers himself quickly and looks at you. As he looks at you, you move a bit to look at Doyoung.

Without warning, your boyfriend is thrown off guard by you suddenly kissing his neck. Mark doesn’t have self-control, and neither do you. You’re not trying to dangle your relationship in front of him, really, you’re not. It’s not your fault that Mark got hard and that caused a chain reaction in getting you wet.

Doyoung pulls back to look at you in confusion, smiling but also trying to dodge your kisses against his neck.

“Hey, hey slow down–” He turns his face to whisper into your hair. “It’s weird with Mark here.”

You ignore his whispers and continue to kiss against him, moving your hand dangerously close to his upper thigh.

In a way, Doyoung can’t believe that you’re really acting like this in front of Mark. Sure, the two of you have kissed in front of him, and Mark has walked in on some steamy makeout sessions, but it was never intended to be in front of him. Then again, Doyoung knows how needy you can get and how selfish you can be when you’re wanting something specific from him.

“Okay, okay–” Doyoung whispers out again, gently pulling himself from the couch and grabbing your hand.

“Hey Mark, I think she’s getting tired.” Doyoung laughs with the obvious lie. “Can we finish the movie another time?”

“Uh, sure.” Mark responds, knowing full fucking well that you’re turned on because of him. The movie hadn’t played even one sexy scene to get you all riled up.

Come Sunday morning, you were just as turned on as you were the night before. You can feel your body heating the moment you even think of Mark, but Doyoung satiates you well enough. Even there against the bathroom wall as the two of you take a shower.

Doyoung took note the night before that you enjoyed it when he humiliated you for doing those things in front of Mark. Asking you if you were really so desperate that you’d let just anyone see you acting the way you did. He plays off of that today too.

Waking up hard wasn’t anything weird for Doyoung, and usually the morning showers end up as morning sex sessions anyway. You seemed more willing and awake this morning than any other time, and he’s thankful for it.

When he’s got you pressed against the wall as the warm water runs down your back, he doesn’t hesitate to plunge into you all the way with a comment of how much wetter you get when he degrades you. In a way, the punishment and degradation feels deserved, because you are embarrassed by how much you want to touch Mark.

“You love when other people can see how much you want me, don’t you?”

You nod against the cold bathroom tiles, feeling his cock pressing deeply inside of you and making your legs feel weak. You do love when other people can see, but what you mean by that is you love when his little brother can see.

Mark, from across the hall, once again hears it all because it wakes him up. Doyoung hadn’t even attempted to keep his voice down while talking to you.

“Going so far as letting Mark see? How desperate were you?”

Mark’s ears perk up at the sound of his brother saying that, already stirring in his pants at the very idea of you getting off to that. How desperate were you? He wonders how you answer, or if you do. He wonders if you were desperate for him or if it was really for Doyoung.

Without much more thought, Mark can’t go another day with you here right now. It’s becoming a bit too much, a bit too real, and honestly, he thinks he’s the desperate one right now. Wanting to barge into the bathroom, shove his brother away, and have his way with you. He could never. You’d never let him go that far surely.

And by the time it’s all said and done, you leave the bathroom lightheaded and Mark appears to have left the house to do something else.

The week passes normally up until Thursday night. You’re rummaging through your cabinets for something to make for dinner when your phone goes off. Assuming it’s Doyoung again, complaining that Friday never comes fast enough, it’s Mark sending you something through instagram, and he’s drunk.

MarkLee99_ sent a photo:

MarkLee99_ : guess who got drunk on a thursday night and is regretting the fact that i wanna talk to you?

Never did you want a paper trail or some type of proof that you and Mark are involved in this weird….thing together. His message isn’t even sexual, it's just a bit intimate that your boyfriend’s brother is sending you selfies while drunk even though you came onto him first. He’s attractive, and entirely too cute right now trying to approach you via fucking Instagram because he won’t do it to your face. Then again, Doyoung is always around.

You: let me guess, you’re the one drunk on a thursday night and will probably say some shit that will make you not be able to look me in the eye tomorrow?

MarkLee99_ : ding ding ding! what’re you doing?

You: texting you and trying to find food, im hungry. what about you?

MarkLee99_ : bout to make another drink and pretend i don’t have your panties under my pillow

MarkLee99_ : …because i do

Wow, Mark is bold and confident when he’s drunk. You find yourself smiling over it. You’d never guess or even assume he would try to make conversation with you about that of all things.

You: oh yeah, you’re definitely drunk

MarkLee99_ : am i being too weird?

MarkLee99_ : because you’re the one who started it

You: me? I started it? You stole my underwear!

MarkLee99_ : you’re the one who let me keep them

You: that’s……fair….

MarkLee99_ : so… :)

Shy boy is no more at this moment and you almost feel caught off guard. Reminding yourself that he’s drunk, you try to set a boundary in your head and change the subject.

You: what are you drinking?

MarkLee99_ : found some of my brother’s expensive whiskey, gonna tell him you drank it, he wont be mad then

You: you’re gonna tell him that I drank his whiskey, when he knows I don’t even like whiskey?

MarkLee99_ : yep

You laugh at his stupidity, finally finding a snack for yourself and settling on the couch with your phone in hand.

You: and you’re drinking on a weeknight again, why?

MarkLee99_ : because i want you

Oh.

MarkLee99_ : and i know im not allowed to, but it’s really hard to like, not, i guess

MarkLee99_ : i know im being weird and im sorry, just really drunk rn and wanna talk to you thats all

MarkLee99_ : or we can pretend i never message you and you can delete the messages

You: no, i think you’re being cute. You can calm down, it’s okay

It’s definitely not okay, but you want it to be. You’re about to do some not okay things too, and cross those boundaries you literally just now set.

You: so, they’re still under your pillow?

MarkLee99_ : yea

You: when was the last time you didn’t have them under there?

MarkLee99_ : yesterday

You: oh yeah?

MarkLee99_ : yea i washed them when doyoung was at work…um

MarkLee99_ : can you maybe wear them again

God, he really is that desperate.

MarkLee99_ : please? you can leave them in the laundry like last time and ill just grab them

You: i’ll think about it

MarkLee99_ : okay…so…uh….did you like the selfie

You: i like seeing you in person more, it’s fun when you’re all flustered and stuff, trying to pretend you don’t like it

Mark is giggling to himself like a schoolgirl, focusing on your messages and hoping to god he doesn’t forget the things you’re saying to him. He’s going to have to delete these messages as soon as it’s over though, for sure. At least he’s not drunk enough to forget the glaring issue at hand here.

MarkLee99_ : i don’t like it because i always have a boner now lol i feel gross always having to go to my room and take care of it so things dont get weird

You: maybe ill take care of it for you someday, who knows?

MarkLee99_ : wait what

You’re cheating. As if you haven’t been already. This is blatantly against your moral code and you literally do not care.

You: are you all flustered now?

MarkLee99_ : maybe,,,,

You: would you want me to? instead of you having to always run off to your room where I can’t see?

MarkLee99_ : you’re doing this on purpose, you wouldn’t actually wanna

MarkLee99_ : would you?

You: guess you’ll just have to find out eventually

You: flustered now?

MarkLee99_ : yea, wanna see?

MarkLee99_ sent a photo:

You: jesus christ

You: you’re like, really big. I mean, I knew from feeling it last weekend but like, that was my foot lol

MarkLee99_ : yeah what even was that about? i felt so stupid doing that

You: you looked hot when you did it tho

MarkLee99_ : am i really that big?

You: mark, look at it. im shocked you don’t already have a girl to bury it into yet

MarkLee99_ : could have one ;)

You: ….yeah

MarkLee99_ : yeah?

MarkLee99_ sent a photo:

Okay, it’s getting to be too much now. You can feel the warmth pooling into your panties already and you wonder if he would be just as eager to lick it up as he is to text you right now. You spread your legs wide, deciding on if you should do it. You’re already cheating, the guilt couldn’t get any worse anyway.

You sent a photo:

MarkLee99_ : oh fuck

MarkLee99_ : you’re wet?

MarkLee99_ : sorry i wasnt expecting that

MarkLee99_ : can i save it

You: :)

You sent a photo:

MarkLee99_ : you should give me those panties instead

You: okay, ill put them in the basket tomorrow night

MarkLee99_ : will you still wear the other ones too?

You: you want //two// pairs?

MarkLee99_ : yeah :(

You: if it’ll make you keep being cute like this

Mark is blushing, flushing, and shaking all at once, one hand on his length and the other texting you. He’s saved the photos anyway, boring holes into them with the thought of what must be behind that thin layer of sticky and wet fabric. He wants to put his face there, he wants to smell you and swallow you up.

MarkLee99_ : can i call you?

A sharp feeling of fear but an even bigger feeling of arousal hits you.

You: I’m waiting.

You didn’t have to wait long, watching the bubble of him typing something to you disappear and instead getting a phone call. You know Mark had your number, and you had his, mostly for communication purposes for Doyoung. Never was this supposed to happen.

When you answer the phone after taking a deep breath, your eyes are nearly popping out of your head. Mark is shameless. All those nights of hearing him muffled through the wall now coming through crisp and clear on the speaker. If you close your eyes, it’s like you’re in his room with him.

You don’t speak, and instead listen. You had expected him to answer the phone stuttering, trying to dirty talk but ultimately failing. It appears his drunken state offers him more than just liquid courage, but liquid lust as well. For a moment you stop and contemplate hanging up. Mark is drunk and you can’t help but feel as though you’re taking advantage of him. Then again, previously sober he basically fucked himself against your foot at the dinner table.

“Feel good?” You ask with a chuckle. You can hear the movement of his body through the speaker and you’re aware that through the lack of slapping sounds that your panties are probably silencing what his hand is doing.

Mark barely answers. A quick “mhm” ringing through your ears with his deep breaths. This isn’t typically how phone sex would go, considering dirty talking is what gets a person there. Maybe Mark has never done this before, then again, maybe he gets off on knowing you’re listening to him while also alone.

“Can you–talk?” Mark asks weakly, his hand stilling for a moment to focus solely on the image he has pulled up over your phone call. He can barely comprehend that you’re on the other line and he’s looking at your pussy pressing against slick panties.

“I like hearing you do this,” You say quickly, not very good at this type of thing yourself despite knowing how it should usually go. You slowly start to trace your fingers against your panties, wondering if Mark would be gentle like this too, nervous even.

“Yeah?” He asks with a small, choked moan as he begins to move his hand again. “You’re not weirded out?”

“If I was weirded out I wouldn’t have sent you photos.” You snap, frustrated suddenly with the whole situation that this is your boyfriend’s brother. “Stop calling it weird–” You trail off, listening intently to the shifting sounds you hear through the speaker.

“Doyoung isn’t home right now,” Mark suddenly admits, and you can feel the arousal disappear almost instantly as you hear his name. The reality hitting you, but still not caring enough to stop.

“Don’t talk about him right now, This isn’t right but–”

“But what?” Mark asks, this time pulling his hand away completely and wondering if you realized you fucked up. Hoping you won’t tell Doyoung, hoping this never gets found out.

“I can’t stop thinking about you.” You let out, finally pressing your fingers beneath the lining of your panties. “I know it’s wrong.”

Like music to Mark’s ears, he feels the eagerness in his body swell to the point that it’s difficult to maintain. Doyoung has everything that Mark wants. A good career, a nice house, needed life skills. All of those things could be obtained with hard work and effort for Mark, but you. You were the one thing he was never supposed to have. You were the one aspect of Doyoung’s life that Mark wouldn’t have the ability to work his way towards, but he did. He has you right now, in this moment, and he feels like nothing could break him. He knows it’s wrong just like you do, but Mark is selfish too.

He doesn’t think you meant to feel this way, because he always sees the good in people, and if you were doing this with any other man he would definitely snitch on you if he found out. But you’re doing it with him and he doesn’t feel an ounce of guilt at this moment that he wants to fuck his big brother’s girlfriend, and it appears she wants to fuck him too.

A small part of Mark’s brain is anxious though. That little still-sober sliver of his moral code trying to fight its way to the front. Does he go with his heart or with his brain? Should he stop? Will he be able to look you in the eye tomorrow? Will he be able to ever look his brother in the eye? He isn’t sure. Both his heart and his brain tells him to go for you, the only thing telling him not to is the thought of his brother. The good news about that is, with you on the other end of this line, Doyoung doesn’t exist to him any longer as he goes to speak.

“You can have me, you know.” He almost whispers, staring down at his heavy cock resting against his belly, panties left dangling off the tip. “I wouldn’t say no.”

Those were dangerous words. Words you know you shouldn’t accept or be turned on by.

“I bet you wouldn’t–” You cut yourself off in a deep breath, pressing against your clit and rubbing harshly. Mark isn’t even talking much, just offering himself on a fucking platter to you.

“Oh, shit, are you?” Mark swallows hard, the reality that you might actually be touching yourself on the other line sending waves of heat down his body in waves. He thought it was just him and only had the hopes that you wouldn’t start making fun of him for it.

“Oh shit, oh fuck.” He says, quickly moving his hand to grip against his cock and already feeling too sensitive from the short moments of neglect. “Where are your hands?” He adds.

“In my panties.”

Mark groans, dropping his phone by his ear on the pillow and using his other hand to grip something, anything as he opts to imagine your fingers sliding beneath the panties you’d shown him in the photo.

You can tell he’s holding his breath, focusing on feeling good in the way he releases short, quick groans every now and then. You keep yourself silent though, trying to hear him, trying to imagine what he’s doing while thinking of you.

The wetness between your legs is being spread by your fingers as you scissor your lips open easily, letting a small groan roll off your tongue for him to hear. Satisfied by his responsive deep breath and sigh, you finally plunge your fingers in.

“Can you hear it, Mark?” You ask, lowering the phone a bit so that he can hear your fingers slide in and out of you with a wet sound.

He chokes on his end at that, swiping the panties off of him to replace the feeling of fabric with the feeling of his closed fist. His precum smears beautifully, offering him the sensation that if he squeezes hard enough, he can imagine that he’s fucking into your warm and wet pussy. He can hear how wet you sound and it’s driving him up a fucking wall not being able to physically see you do it in front of him.

“This is all I'm going to think about tomorrow–” He groans out, tightening his fist even more and bucking his hips into it. “You sound so,”

“Wet for you?”

That’s all it takes before Mark is gasping out a string of curses, the orgasm both sending him into a sobering world of pleasure and an even drunker state of wanting you to himself. Strings of white spurting all along his belly and going as far as his chin, he throws his other hand up and bites hard against the skin on his knuckle as he works through it. He doesn’t want to moan, he wants to hear how fast your fingers are moving. He wants to think about how you must be imagining him right now, feeling good and breaking the rules for him.

Finally, after an embarrassingly long orgasm from Mark, his room goes silent and his ears tune in to the speaker on his phone. You’re cooing, letting out pretty little breaths between the smacking sounds of your palms coming into contact with your clit as you work yourself through it. He can’t believe you’re doing this with him, and even after his own orgasm he’s still incredibly aroused despite his cock softening.

“You still there?” You groan out. He can tell the phone is closer to what your hands are doing than it is to your face, but he doesn’t mind.

“I’m still here–” He swallows hard, catching his breath as he practically studies the audio you’re feeding to him.

“I bet that felt good,” You compliment his orgasm that was glaringly obvious on your end. You imagine he doesn’t even recognize that his hand was audible against his cock, and the sheer speed you heard of what he was doing made your clenching walls ache with everything you shouldn’t be wanting.”Wish I could see you right now–”

Mark did contemplate face timing you instead, but that was crossing more of a line in his head than just calling you. Plus, he would have probably hidden himself from view the entire time. It’s not like he expected to actually have you fucking yourself on the other end of the line, but here you are, and here he is, cum all over him.

He snaps a quick photo for you, and in your head you whimper a small yes, because you can hear the shutter from his phone.

“Send it,” You demand softly, pulling your phone from your stomach and holding it in front of your face.

He does as you ask and feels embarrassed by the pools of cum all over his stomach. The photo consists mostly of his chest down. You can see his plush and bitten lips at the top of the photo though, and his quite big softening cock lying spent against his stomach, smearing some of the cum across his belly.

Mark listens to your reaction and hum of approval when you look at the photo, a small blush fanning his cheeks out of pure adoration for you rather than lust at this moment. He listens intently, unsure of if you’re going to work yourself to orgasm or hang up on him before he gets the chance to hear it.

The point is, Mark is getting a part of you that only Doyoung should have, and he will be damned to pretend he doesn’t like it.

Waking up with an immense amount of guilt in your head, you almost bail at going to Doyoung’s house this weekend. You’ve already called out of work simply because you find yourself thinking of Mark more than you should, and the guilt only wavers from you feeling like a piece of shit, to almost being a thought that you can push aside.

Doyoung would kill Mark if he found out, and you, what would he even do with you? Break up with you? Insult you? The thought of him finding out is the only reason you feel guilty. Because you still don’t regret showing Mark, letting him hear you, or hearing and seeing him. In fact, you don’t intend to stop either. You want him too much at this point, and he seems to be in the same place as you when it comes to this situation. Mark wouldn’t tell on you because then he would be telling on himself.

After all, he only moved in with Doyoung so he could taste freedom outside of his parent’s house. The strict curfews, the password protected websites despite him being a fucking adult, the supervision of his own money and belongings. Doyoung knew the pain of living there, and that’s why he accepted Mark with open arms.

Doyoung was a good brother and an even better boyfriend. You and Mark on the other hand. Mark’s an awful brother and you’re an even worse girlfriend. He didn’t deserve any of this, and he doesn’t deserve any of what’s to come either. You’re in too deep with Mark now, and the glaring attraction is too strong to ignore.

Never in your life did you think you could find yourself being unfaithful, let alone with your own boyfriend’s sibling, yet here you are. Only guilty if you get caught.

Mark had texted you at least three thousand times with apologies. Admitting that his head hurt too much this morning to be realizing what the two of you did. He said he wouldn’t approach you when you come over, apologized again, and then promised to never tell Doyoung and to never hold it against you if you think he’s weird for doing all of that to you.

Reading over his string of messages, you realize that Mark is blaming himself. He feels like he’s taking advantage of you and wanting you to feel secure and safe in something you did without a second thought.

On his end though, Mark is in his room staring at the two photos you sent to him the night before. Partially wondering if it was all just a dream at first, those pictures of you were the truth of how you felt towards him. And when you never text him back he doesn’t think too hard about why.

When you still show up at that day, he doesn’t question that you’re not eye fucking him the second you walk in through the door either.

Mark was once again lounging on the couch when you walked in and Doyoung was nowhere in sight. He hadn’t texted you either. Awkwardly, Mark speaks up before you can question it.

“He told me to let you know that he was gonna be late again. Said something about knowing you’d spam him with needy text messages while he’s in a last-minute work meeting.”

You look to the floor for a second, wondering if the real reason Doyoung didn’t text you personally like he always did is because he found out somehow.

“Oh,” You sigh, slipping off your shoes and feeling a wave of anxiety wash over you.

“He doesn’t know, don’t worry–” Mark assures you as he stands to his feet and heads towards his room. “Sorry about last night, I won't do that again.”

You’ve been slouched against Doyoung’s couch for at least an hour by now and your mind is still doing a back and forth between taking advantage of this alone time with Mark, or worrying about how you shouldn’t be left alone with him at all.

The glaringly obvious issue in your head right now is the fact that you’re alone with Mark and you’re not upset about it. Mark assured you that Doyoung didn’t find out, and the fact that Mark is the best source of finding out exactly what Doyoung knows is more of a comfort than anything to you right now.

Thinking back to the night before, you remember releasing your orgasm on the phone and hearing him compliment you through it. You have the photo of him saved within your gallery, hidden from your too-trusting boyfriend’s eyes. It was the first time you’ve ever seen Mark’s lower half bare. He really was huge.

It’s not even shocking to you at this point that you can feel guilty and anxious one moment and immediately switch into some sex-starved beast at the very thought of Mark.

“maybe ill take care of it for you someday, who knows?” The text message you sent to him spreads across your thoughts, knowing full well that you’re probably going to get intimate with Doyoung later, the least you can do is let Mark have some first if he wants it, right?

You cautiously stand to your feet with a deep breath. The fact that you allow yourself to continuously dig the hole deeper for you to never be able to pull yourself out from inside. Maybe it's just what Mark does to your thoughts? The images of him are too good to be able to ignore, the guilt not nearly enough to make you stop wanting him.

Doyoung isn’t in your mind when you reach into your bag and grab the soiled panties you had soaked completely the night before, and Doyoung barely exists at all in your thoughts when you make your way down the hall and lean against Mark’s closed door.

“I wouldn’t say no.” was what Mark had messaged you before, guess now is the time to find out.

Opening his door without so much as a knock, Mark doesn't appear to notice you at all as his back stays turned and he focuses on the screen in front of him. The large headset is sitting comfortably on his ears and you’re sure that the volume is up far too loud to be healthy. You can hear his friend’s yelling directions, where enemies are hiding and where they’re headed next.

You smirk for a moment, noting how much of a typical college boy Mark is. Messy room, messy hair, messy relationship with his brother’s girlfriend. You can imagine he feels pride in what he was able to do with you, and that’s not even an ego boost on your end. You wonder if he’s told his friends anything at all. Not about who he likes or who he’s been getting intimate with even if not too-directly, but like, that he’s been getting fed sexual fantasies by someone in general. You wonder if he talks you up, then again, what if he hasn’t mentioned it at all.

“Where were you last night anyway?” You hear over the too-loud headset as you come up behind Mark with the panties in your hand.

“Busy getting laid, unlike you losers.” Mark boasts, but you snicker at how he’s both lying and telling the truth.

“Bullshit–” You hear another insult coming through his headset before you finally are right behind him.

Part of you wants to prove him right so his friend’s think he’s cool or something, but then again, what if they recognize your voice? Surely these are his friends from back home, some two to three hours from this city. Surely they don’t know you, right?

“No, really.” You lean down against Mark’s headset and speak in a tone that isn’t too common for you, and he freezes.

“No fucking way,” A deeper voice sounds through his headset and you can’t help but feel happy for him in the way they, for some reason, can’t believe Mark’s got some girl in this city interested in him.

When Mark tries to turn his body to look at you, you hold the chair in place. Knowing yourself how headsets work, you lift his mic until it clicks, hoping to god the mute function works like it’s supposed to and start talking.

“Don’t move, keep playing if you want.” You say, dangling the panties over his head and lowering them in front of his face.

More arousing than gross, you watch Mark’s face fall forward against them. Part of him can’t believe you’re really doing this right now despite leaving his messages on read. But you are, and these are the panties that he thought about all last night and most of today. He really meant it when he said that would be the only thing he would be thinking about, and here you are, keeping the promise of giving them to him.

Reaching up and clutching the panties, Mark tries to turn towards you again.

“Stay,” You say. “And don’t be loud.” You lower his mic into place where he is no longer muted and listen as his friends go from talking shit to starting up another game.

From behind his chair, you’re a little shocked at how good he is at following what you say. He doesn’t move, but you can hear his breathing and the way he struggles to balance it in order to remain some-what normal sounding to his friends when they address him. His fingers are shaking against his keyboard as the game starts, and you think he’s probably thought about this happening to him hundreds of times before.

Gamer boys always want this kind of thing. Some girl prodding and tugging at them, sucking them off under the table as they boast to their friends how they can be getting head and still getting gold damage by the time the match is over.

All you can think about right now is being the person to fulfill his fantasies. More turned on by the idea that Mark must want it so badly from you. When you reach around him, lying your hand against his lap, he’s already incredibly hard and stares down at it as the countdown screen on his game begins.

From out of sight, you don’t want Mark to see you. You want to see how badly he does through this, because it’s not only cute but actually fucking hilarious. It’s the first time you’re moving on him rather than him grinding against whatever you have to offer.

Ignoring the call outs of enemies in game through his head set, both of you spiral into a world of your own again when you grab his length from over his sweatpants and just–you just hold him for a moment. The weight of it grows much heavier as he somehow manages to get insanely hard at the fact that you’re in the room with him and your incredibly used panties are sitting right there too.

“Jesus–” Mark groans when you grab him, but his friends seem to pay no mind to it. Gamer talk and all.

“Jesus is right, you haven’t moved from that fucking building you cuck-” Some guy shouts from his head set.

“Shut the fuck up Haechan, you’re literally in bronze,” Another man shouts.

Mark is silent save for a sharp inhale when you squeeze your palm around him. He knows if he even tries to talk shit right now that all of his friends would just fucking know how desperate and embarrassing he is around you. That’s the last thing he needs.

Finally, after a few moments of palming him through his pants, you dip right in. He doesn’t shy away from it either, spreading his legs from under his desk and lifting his ass up slightly so you can pull the pants down to release his length.

Even bigger than the photos, thicker than you genuinely imagined now that you see it from over his shoulder. Mark tries to turn his head this time to look at you, but you’re quick to catch his cheek and turn it back to the screen.

Gripping him again, Mark sighs into his mic and his friend’s screaming goes silent. You’re quick to lift his mic into the muted position just to offer some sort of escape from embarrassment now seeing that he’s incredibly willing to let you do this while his ego is on the line.

“You want them to hear?” You ask, feeling his hips slightly buck into your grip. That sends shivers down your spine, finally feeling it for the first time.

“I don’t care–” He sighs again, thrusting his hips up harder. “Just touch me,”

The way he says it, for some reason, sounds so fucking broken that you could honestly swirl this chair around and impale yourself on him without so much as a second thought. But you contain yourself, now moving your grip up his length and thumbing over the head to feel the little beads of pre-cum.

“Alright, sweetheart,” You compliment, lowering his mic for the last time and wondering just how much he’s going to let his shithead friends hear.

For a few moments, you gently jerk him off just to see his hips chase your fist. He’s needy in the way he moves his body but very fucking good at acting as you start to count each kill he manages to get through this.

By the time you hear his friends praise him, you feel a little competitive yourself. Shy, needy, desperate little Mark thinks he can get through a game the very first time you actually touch him? Perhaps he thinks he is giving you what you want, but what you want is to see him fall apart.

You move your hand faster, watching him from behind as he chokes up and slams his head against the headrest of his chair, nearly knocking the headphones off of him.

“Fuck,” Mark moans, knowing full well that his friends wouldn’t suspect anything if he says such a thing.

You know that was for you though, so you continue. The rhythm of your hand moving from a slow drag to something painfully fast and unfathomably good. Mark’s head is spinning, thrusting his hips up and gripping his computer mouse so tightly that he thinks he could crush it in his grip.

When his pre-cum is offering more lubricant for an easy slide up and down, your pace remains fast and you can squeeze harder.

Mark can’t hold himself back anymore, slamming his head against the headrest of his seat yet again, this time his headset sliding off of his head and falling into the floor. He lols his head from side to side as he finally lets out a moan, shooting a hand to your wrist and holding it in place so that he can fuck up into it.

You gasp at that, his grip harsh and far less gentle than you’d expect. The muffled screams of his friends are blatantly obvious and you can’t bring yourself to care if the mic muted itself during its descent to the floor or not.

He’s choking back little groans, releasing your wrist and staring down, then grabbing it again before fucking up harder. You can tell he has no idea what to do, what he should do, or what he’s going to do and it’s so fucking endearing.

He tries to turn to see you again, but you do your best to remain behind him as you grab the base of his cock and cause him to groan in pain.

“Let me see you,” He nearly sobs in a frustrated way, and for a moment you contemplate letting him.

“Let me hear you.” You respond, keeping that same, painfully tight, grip against him and dragging it up to his head, enveloping it and sending sensitive shocks throughout his body.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Mark wiggles under the painful grasp, but his hips still chase when you drag your hand back down. He’s no longer being quiet, no longer pretending to care about his dead character on the screen, re-spawning and dying every few seconds. He’s a free kill for any enemy player right now and you can tell his friend’s are pissed in the way the screaming from the headset gets louder despite the distance. The chat box on screen is being spammed just as aggressively, and Mark can barely even open his eyes to process it.

“You were playing so well,” You coo out, shifting forward a bit and placing your chin on his shoulder. “What happened, Markie?”

He softly moans at the nickname, eyes half open as he glances down at how fast your hand is moving compared to your soft, balanced voice against his ear. He turns his head quickly, trying to catch you off guard, but you pull away.

“So needy to see me,” You chuckle, working him up and knowing that he’s got to be close with the way she shamelessly moans in the most annoyed, frustrated way.

“Let me kiss you.” He grunts, bucking his hips aggressively, now chasing in full that painful grip you’re keeping against him so well. “I’ll keep my eyes closed, please,”

You contemplate again giving him what he wants, but you figure he’s already getting more than enough.

“Oh? You’ll keep your eyes closed? Don’t you want to look at me?”

Mark is desperate now, hands moving to the armrests of his chair as he grips them hard, hips wildly stuttering in your grasp.

“Fuck, yes.” He lets out, dropping his head with a deep breath and then throwing his head back with an even longer moan.

You can’t tell if that was him answering you, or simply reacting to what his body is feeling, and you don’t really care. He’s already there, walking on the thin line of orgasm and willing to take whatever it is you give him. He no longer wants anything, he’s just experiencing.

You watch him from behind very closely, the shiver running from his toes straight to his ears was obvious enough.

“That’s it,” You whisper from behind. “I know you want to.”

Mark’s entire body tenses against the chair, you can feel it stress from the way his legs spread wider and his hips go from quick thrusts to short, drawn out drags against your palm. The image of him doing that between your legs washes over every single one of your thoughts. He would do that, burying himself so deeply as he spills out inside of you, thrusting in and slowly dragging his hips out, just to thrust in again to push his seed impossibly deeper.

“That’s so hot,” Mark comments with a deep breath, and only then do you realize the small moan you’d let out during that intense thought of him. His come is spilling out in loads and all you can do is watch him get through it.

Finally, after making a mess of him, you smile to yourself. A job well done.

You opt to make a grand exit, saying nothing after releasing his cock and sauntering out of the room in silence to leave him to his thoughts. You could still hear his friends screaming through the microphone, and he doesn’t even call out after you. Mark must feel on top of the world right now, because you know that you do.

Doyoung came home later than last time, tired and droopy. He found himself drawn to you more than usual, noting that your eyes were sparkling a little brighter upon walking through his door.

You put Mark in the back of your head much like you always tried to do when Doyoung was around you these days. Your love for your boyfriend is still blatant and honest when you’re next to him, not at all feeling pity for Mark having to see it. Mark should know who it is you love, despite the fact that you jerked him off a mere few hours ago.

When Doyoung is next to you, when his arm is around you and his eyes are on you, you don’t question for a second that everything you’ve been doing behind his back will come back on you, and it’ll be well deserved pain. But there’s still a part of you that hopes you can keep Doyoung forever and always be happy beside him. You’re actively betraying him, his own flesh and blood is helping you dig this hole deeper and deeper. So deep that Doyoung can’t even see the bottom where Mark’s got his hands on you.

Fully intending to keep them both, you find yourself feeling more fulfilled despite the awful moral. Doyoung isn’t willing to share, but Mark is. And you, you don’t have to share.

Saturday was as normal as always. Mark pops in and out of his room, not even once acting as if something suspicious is going on. If anything, Doyoung is a little more happy to see you spend time with Mark when he’s not in his room. It was awkward at first. Mark’s always been shy but it seems like he’s loosened up after realizing you’re a permanent part of the picture for as long as you’re with Doyoung. He’s endeared by the way you bully his brother the same way he does.

Even that little crush Mark had on you when he first met you appears to have fallen into more of a sibling-like relationship to Doyoung. He thought it was cute that Mark had a crush, after all, it’s you. Doyoung fucking fell head over heels when you gave him attention and wouldn’t be caught dead releasing his grip on you once he asked you to be his girlfriend. The point is, Doyoung knew Mark had a small crush but was pleased to see it turn into something more casual and comfortable. He likes his life, loves his girlfriend, and loves his brother. Nothing could get better than spending time with the two of you, even if Mark jumps up to go be a recluse in his room from time to time.

“Mark,” Haechan grits through the mic.

“What?” Mark responds, throwing his arms behind his head as he smiles to himself through the webcam.

“You should be embarrassed.” Haechan argues. “We didn’t wanna hear that shit.”

“I muted him.” Jeno says with a shrug through his webcam.

“Yeah, me too.” Jaemin follows up, all eyes now falling to Haechan with a red face.

“I was in a tight situation! I couldn’t tab out!” Haechan defends himself easily, still a darker shade than usual.

“I think she wanted you guys to hear,” Mark laughs quietly, whispering.

“Why are you whispering?” Jeno asks, leaning forward towards his camera as if Mark was about to whisper out again, this time with a deeper secret.

Instead, Mark shifts his eyes and changes the subject. As much as he would love to tell his friends that he’s managed to get a handjob (not the foot thing) from his brother’s girlfriend, he’s sure they’d have a little more respect for him. But it feels like a betrayal to say it out loud, regardless of how hot the idea is in his head.

“Because my brother is with his girlfriend and it’s weird if they know what happens when they’re not here.” Mark deadpans out to his friends, who nod their heads in agreement.

“She left her panties,” Mark goes to say, removing his hands from behind his head and sitting up from his relaxed position. “Wanna see?”

Haechan was, obviously, the first to nod his head and Mark didn’t really need the others to agree anyway, because they’re a group of college guys who are always either talking about getting laid or how to raise their rank when playing competitive games.

“Damn,” Jeno laughs as he sees the thin fabric come into view. “Are they dirty?”

“Oh yeah,” Mark boasts, spreading out the fabric and bringing them close to the camera.

“Y’all are gross.” Haechan waves them off, averting his eyes and trying to pretend he’s not interested.

“Mark’s full of shit, he probably bought those and was being weird with them. That’s definitely his load we’re looking at, guys.” Jeno cuts in.

“You heard her talk to him through the mic, there’s no way he’s lying.” Haechan, for some reason, argues for Mark.

“Uh, no I didn’t. I had him muted the second I saw his hero standing in the middle of the map without moving.” Jeno argues back.

“I lied, I didn’t mute him.” Jaemin finally admits.

Mark can’t stop smiling. The fact that he can barely believe what happened himself is enough not to argue. They’re your panties, that’s your scent in them, and that was your hand wrapped around him yesterday.

Waking up on Sunday felt, again, normal. You hadn’t heard Mark through the walls the night before but Doyoung sure did. He mostly drowned out the sounds by putting in his headphones though, unlike what you would have done. Doyoung did, however, wake up hard considering the two of you passed out the night before without so much as a lingering hand.

To his dismay, you groan at his roaming hands as he wakes you up. Doyoung knew you loved being woken up this way, but he knew to stop if you made a sound like that.

“What’s wrong?” He says, pulling his hand back and instead, placing it in your waist so that way he can pull you closer.

You don’t respond, cracking an eye open and immediately feeling your head pound at the sunlight shining through the windows. You feel bad that since thursday, the only intimacy you’ve had has been with Mark despite being in love with the man against you. Honestly, if it weren’t for the fact that you immediately, physically, feel like shit this morning, you’d be jumping Doyoung’s bones.

“Head is pounding.”

“Ah,” Doyoung smiles, hugging you against him and rubbing circles against your skin with his thumb. “It’s okay, you can sleep in. I’m gonna go make some breakfast.”

Your boyfriend’s good mood doesn’t go unnoticed, nor does your headache. You take him up on that offer and immediately fall back to sleep.

Later, you wake to Doyoung gently patting your cheek.

“You want some food? Might help?”

You nod, squinting your eyes and sitting up a little too quickly. You glance around as he turns away and heads back towards the kitchen, and then you stretch your arms out. Things feel too fucking normal for you to be doing what you’ve been doing. This headache is well fucking deserved, surely.

Making your way into the kitchen, you note that Mark’s bedroom door was open and he wasn’t in there. He also wasn’t in the kitchen or living room.

“Where’s Mark?” You ask casually, sitting down at the table and rubbing your temples.

“Said something about one of his friends coming to a city nearby and wanting to go hang out with him. Probably Haechan.”

Your heart starts beating in your ears at the thought that you really thought Doyoung wouldn’t know any of Mark’s friends? Sure, you thought that maybe they were just online friends, or maybe people Mark met after Doyoung moved out of his parent’s house, but you recognize that fucking name. Thankfully, you had changed your voice just slightly as you spoke to Mark the other day. Surely this isn’t what would ruin the entire arrangement.

“Ah,” You groan. “Finally we have the house to ourselves and I have to wake up with a migraine?”

“It’s okay, really.” Doyoung smiles, sitting a plate of food down in front of you. “Besides, we both know you like the thrill of needing to be quiet.”

He’s joking, you know he is, but it was the truth before this whole thing with Mark started.

“If we really wanted to be alone, I'd be at your apartment every weekend.”Your boyfriend adds, planting a kiss to the top of your head and heading towards the medicine cabinet. “Little weird that it has to be my brother that we are keeping quiet from, but whatever.”

“Didn’t know i’d be this into it, honestly.” You admit, feeling open enough to at least tell him that you’re very into the idea of someone hearing you. You just won't admit that you want it to be Mark.

“I mean, I personally am not into this type of thing. It’s a little uncomfortable for me.” Doyoung sits down and hands you two painkillers. “But I doubt he’s actually listening. I apologized after the first time and he said he usually just puts in headphones and goes to sleep.”

You hold back the smile of Mark’s blatant lies towards Doyoung.

“So I guess I don’t entirely mind feeding into your little fantasies of being heard, or caught, or whatever.”

Your boyfriend waves off the conversation with a smile, ultimately willing the fact that it is weird to him out of his head. If that was a new thing you realized you liked, the only way you would have found out is by having someone else in the house when the two of you do those things. Unfortunately, it was Mark. In Doyoung’s head, he was mature enough to discuss it like an adult with his brother. Guidelines and rules, moving Mark in wasn’t going to change his sex life with you, if anything, he had already told Mark to invest in some decent headphones or earplugs because he’s gonna hear some shit.

You allow the conversation to die as you work up an appetite. Thankfully Doyoung was an amazing cook, though he only did it one or two nights a week considering how spent his job makes him feel. You’re thankful he cooked this morning, and even more thankful for these two little pills that will hopefully knock your headache out within the hour.

Come Monday, you’re thankful you get to work from home. You sleep in and try your best not to think about the fact that Doyoung knows the friends that heard you be intimate with Mark. You’re even more thankful for this week away from your boyfriend’s house because, even though you’ve processed everything, you feel like you should probably be alone for a while and really think about what you’re doing.

When Mark is around or texting you, it’s hard to think straight because you genuinely want him so fucking bad. And when Doyoung is beside you, or texting you, all you can do is imagine a future with him.

The once bright, clear future of Doyoung in a tuxedo standing in front of you at some extravagant altar becomes a little more foggy at the thought of where Mark would fit into it. Would he be behind Doyoung, watching him marry you to start a real life together? Would he be somewhere in the crowd, waiting to object and expose you for the awful girlfriend you are? Or even worse, would he not be there at all? Running away and disappearing never to insert himself into your life or his brother’s life ever again?

You don’t want to think about the future right now. Everything you’ve been doing has been so selfish and so fucking fulfilling that you can’t bring yourself to feel any amount of pity for Doyoung and the way he trusts you fully. You never once gave him a reason to not trust you, and you think maybe Mark hasn’t given him a reason.

But god, he shouldn’t trust either of you at all. He’s at work, making money, living his life with a supposed loving girlfriend all while offering his little brother an ounce of freedom. What does he get in response to his hard work and kindness? His brother wanting to tongue fuck his girlfriend? And worse yet, his girlfriend wants it even more than his brother does?

Your mind is burning through scenarios all day if you have it in you to feel bad. Another scenario involves you, married to Doyoung and sneaking Mark out of your bed when Doyoung returns from work. Even more scenarios of Doyoung finding out and hating you forever, leaving you and meeting someone better. How could you have them both and keep it going? Is something like that even possible?

Then you get a text.The glaring reality blows right past your head when you’re expecting it to be Mark but you see Doyoung’s name on the screen. You still feel just as excited though.

Doie: good news and great news

You: oh? :o

Doie: Good news: co worker has family issues and had to drop out of the business trip coming up.

You were about to question why that’s good news, but then Doyoung quickly texts again.

Doie: great news: i am now being asked to attend the event and it could get me a pretty big promotion.

You: You’re gonna go right?? When is it?

Honestly, the way your heart swells at your boyfriend moving up in the world could knock anyone on their feet. No one would ever guess what you do behind his back, because again, you haven’t lost an ounce of love for this man and you probably never will.

Doie: I leave tomorrow if I accept.

You: how long is it? do you need help packing since it’s such short notice?

Doie: only three days, so i’d be back on friday and still get to see you this weekend

You: it’s a win/win! i can come over tonight since i’m working from home today.

Doie: you good to sleep over and drop me off in the morning at the airport? i can give them an answer now so they can work out the transport and get the tickets transferred to me.

You: you didn’t need to even ask me first!! you should have immediately said yes! I’ll be over tonight, i’m proud of you

Doie: love you babe :)

And so there it is. The glaring issue about to become a blatant, full blown affair. And like, you don’t want to get it twisted. You are so fucking proud of Doyoung and so fucking glad that everything in his life appears to be rushing him straight to major success, but also, he’s going to be gone for three days and that’s three days to try and get over this whole Mark phase(which is unlikely). By using Mark. By fucking him, specifically.

It doesn’t help that just a few moments later, presumably after Doyoung lets Mark know the plan, Mark is texting you.

Mark: Doyoung’s leaving for 3 days

You: yep :)

Mark: ….do i even need to say it

You: nope

Mark: gonna clean my room

Dropping Doyoung off was weirdly bitter sweet. His confidence was through the roof as he kissed you goodbye. He even asked for a second kiss for good luck after rushing back to you a few seconds later. You knew he’d do amazing for this event, even with it so last minute. Everything Doyoung did was with effort and thought put into it.

That was the sweet part anyway. The bitter part is the guilt finally coming to you like it should have weeks ago. The fact that Doyoung is walking off to get on an airplane and Mark is at home cleaning his room to fuck you in it. It’s obvious that you don’t deserve either of them.

Still, the guilt hitting you now is unnerving. It took so long to come, and only consumes you when Doyoung isn’t around to nearly witness the infidelity? Shaking yourself of disgust, you head out of the airport and still find yourself pulling into Doyoung’s driveway.

You sit in your car for a moment. Thinking back on all of those small moments with Mark, wondering now if you still want him or if those moments were enough to satisfy the curiosity of your boyfriend’s brother. Even through the guilt, you still want him.

Stepping out of your car and walking up to the door felt too unfamiliar and nerve wracking, hearing your heart skip beats and your body melt away into the hole you fucking dug for yourself. However, the moment Mark opens the door and looks at you, before you could even unlock it yourself, every single guilt ridden thought disappears.

You don’t know what it is about him, and surely you’ve never felt this way before, because goddamn is it a blinding kind of feeling. Thinking back as you look at him, he seems different now despite having the same face and body language. Before, Mark was cute with his little crush. Weird even, with the way he lingered for too long to see you kiss his brother. Now, when you look at him, he looks like he isn’t at all the cute, shy little brother. He’s Mark, a man with wants and needs that have your name written all over them. You can’t fucking help yourself, and now being able to indulge yourself fully along side him, Doyoung is drowned out in the back of your mind.

Mark is still shy and timid in the way he moves but he knows just as well as you do what’s about to happen and isn’t at all shying away from the fact that he’s about to fulfill every dirty little thought he’s had about you since he met you. Hell, since he saw photos of you that Doyoung sent before he ever met you.

On cloud nine, Mark is timid when he, for the first time, makes a move on you. It’s shocking that he did it at all, if you’re being honest, but you lean into him. All he does is grab your hand, a touch that wouldn’t raise suspicions at all in Doyoung if he were to see it, but to you it’s the most intimate thing he could do at this moment. Because he’s leading you, and his eyes are hungry and unable to pull from you.

Not a single fucking word is said, everything already spoken and understood with nothing more than the look when he opened that fucking door. Mark leads you to his room, and the energy in the air is so electrifying it scares you. Never has a touch to your hand, or a leading pull to a bedroom made you feel so weightless. You think back to when you held his length in your hand, you had all of the power that day. Now, you don’t think Mark realizes what he could get away with. You’re falling into the same mindset you have with Doyoung, one where you want, need, and could beg to be touched, but you still yourself from falling too far into it.

Mark is even more gentle when he lets your hand go and turns towards you with a deep sigh, as if he’s preparing his entire being for what’s coming. Both of you like a deer in headlights, as if this wasn’t intentional or planned, you smile at him.

Mark lets out a nervous laugh at your smile, shaking his head and looking down. He’s already stiff beneath his pants, which are conveniently unbuttoned and unzipped. Even you, shamelessly wearing a dress with no panties. Doyoung thought it was for him, and he damn well did fuck you this morning while on a confident-high before you took him to the airport.

You knew Mark could hear it, and he didn’t appear to care. Because in all fairness, Mark did not give a fuck. Because he knew you weren’t his at that moment, but you fucking would be before the night is up. The next three days, you’re his. Even if he never has you again.

That deer-in-the-headlights look from Mark fades as his eyes take you in without hiding it for the first time. You imagine he will fall apart if he were to trace his hands under your dress and find that you are completely bare, you imagine you would fall apart much faster if he touched you at all.

It happens so fast. Too fast, almost with the way he steps up to you confidently. You just now realize that he’s taller than you when he skews his head and looks down at your lips. His breathing is uneven and you can tell he’s doing his best to be confident because you haven’t made a move towards him at all like you usually would.

Looking up at him, you want to reach up and grip his hair. His lips are so plush, clearly freshly coated with chapstick. His skin is practically glowing save for the few blemishes that the fringe on his forehead covers, you find yourself wondering if he’s taking this moment to study you too.

“I’m having a really hard time holding back,” Mark whispers out, inches from your face.

“Then don’t.” You encourage him without doubt, hoping that he can break past that last little boundary the two of you haven’t crossed yet. The one where he can kiss you, touch you, have you. Only because you can’t bring yourself to do it at this moment, for some reason.

The feeling of his lips touching yours was more bruising than you think he intended them to be, but the desperate feeling was all the same as your own, you think. Never had you actually stopped to think of kissing him or how he would go about it. Like running in blind, you’re learning that Mark knows what to do with his tongue, how to pace himself despite not wanting to, and how to reach up and hold your fucking face in a dreamy way.

His hands are cupping your face, kissing you like you’re his girlfriend. He still moves his lips in a hungry and desperate way though, in a way that has you struggling to breathe by the force of it alone.

When his hands drop from your face and fall to your waist. Every new place he touches feels like it’s set ablaze. You press forward against his chest, walking him back as you continue to kiss, all the way until he falls back on his bed with an ‘oof’ sound.

Still, his face is slack as he stares up at you now, eyes struggling to stay trained on your face for too long as you begin to take off your jacket and reach over to pull at his shirt.

So badly you want to see him shirtless again, but he doesn’t argue, eagerly lifting it off of his body and lying back again.

Now that the initial intimacy has been established, you finally feel you coming back to yourself, thinking more clearly and finding a small list in your head of things you want and need to do for him. Starting with letting him really look at you.

“I know how much you like my panties, but–” You smile, standing in front of him and trying to keep your eyes averted from his length threatening to break through his pants.

“Let me see,” Mark urges you, tilting his head with a swallow and training his eyes on your thighs.

He thinks you must be wearing the prettiest pair today, for him, not for his brother. But when you lift your leg and straddle him, his face contorts to confusion and then to pleasure when you sit against his cock. Of course, with the fabric covering his length, he still can’t tell that you’re not actually wearing any panties at all.

“You wanna see?” You ask for his clarification, bunching your dress up in your hands and preparing to lift it so he can see your bare folds sitting against him.

Mark blinks at you, nodding his head and nibbling on his bottom lip. He’s doing everything in his power not to reach up and grab your waist just to guide you on him. He’s afraid to move too fast, he’s afraid to embarrass himself with how fucking desperate he is for you right now.

“Look,” You say, nodding between your legs and lifting your dress.

“Goddamn,” Mark gasps as his eyes focus on the fact that you’re leaving a small wet spot against his pants. That’s your pussy on him.

Without a second thought his hands are on your waist, pushing and pulling you forward and backwards against his length. You blink hard at the sensation of the fabric rubbing against your lips harshly, and then open your eyes to look at him again.

He is still staring between your legs, almost losing himself to this alone. Then again, it’s the first time he’s ever seen you bare and he cannot get past the fact that Doyoung gets to see it whenever he fucking wants.

“I can feel it–” Mark chokes, referring to your wetness seeping through his pants and onto him.

You smile at him, now moving your hips on your own as you pull his hands away and push them to lay above his head. If he thinks this is good, you want to see how fast he reaches for you again.

It’s so easy when you lift yourself up, and incredibly cute in the way his eyes follow your core when you lift. He doesn’t even realize that you shove his sweats down and sit right back down, this time coating him in full with your slippery juices.

“God, fuck,” He moans in disbelief, and just as expected his hands shoot to your waist and hold you down against him. You’re not sure if it’s intentional or not, but he’s incredibly sexy in the way he moves without thinking.

“Fuck?” You question cutely, forcing your hips to slide up his length despite him trying to hold you there.

“How are you always so wet?” He questions in a whimper, letting you move and instead grabbing the hem of your dress himself and holding it up so he can watch you slide against him.

“How are you so big?” You try to compliment, feeling him between your folds and wondering just how deep he could fuck you if he so wanted to. “So, so big.” You groan out this time, feeling the head of his cock bumping against your clit every few seconds.

Mark obviously doesn’t answer, his fingers are gripping your dress so tightly and his eyes are burning the image of you doing this into his head. He never wants to forget this moment of feeling you against him for probably the first and last time, because in all realness, this can’t happen again if he thinks too hard about it.

“I want to fuck you so bad,” He admits. “Just this once, please.”

You nod cutely, swiping his hands away from your dress and lifting it off of you in full. His eyes are now glued to your tits and whatever it was he was saying is long forgotten as he watches them move when you slide up against him again.

The way he shuts up is entirely too arousing. You can see him thinking about you, practically able to see him process every part of your body on top of him.

“Take your pants off, quickly.” You finally say, frustrated when you slide back and off of him.

He does as he’s told when you stand to your feet in wait, and instantly he’s lifting himself and grabbing you, pulling you right back on him.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Mark whines, pushing your hips against him and keeping himself upright, careful not to fall back against the mattress so he can plant his lips against your neck.

You feel a bite and pull back from him, hips stilling.

“You can’t leave any bruises–” You scold him, and he simply nods and goes back to kissing against your neck and shoulder.

“Right, wouldn’t want him knowing that I fuck you better, right?” Mark mocks the situation as a whole, using reality as a form of ego boost, hoping to god that you lean into it rather than run from it.

It makes you a little angry, but you get it. Mark’s confidence must be through the roof because never would you have imagined him speaking to you like this, or mentioning his brother at all.

“Prove it and maybe i’ll play along.” You try to challenge him, but you know that he might actually be right. His size is definitely bigger than Doyoung’s, but can he work it the same way, or better? Can the shy, timid little brother actually satisfy you the way your boyfriend does?

Mark pulls back from kissing your neck only for a moment, moving to your lips and wincing at the feeling of your folds sliding against him still, maybe he did get a little too cocky there.

“Prove it?” He breathes against your lips, gripping your waist tighter and guiding you up.

You already know what he’s doing and don’t shy away from it. Usually there’s foreplay, and you’re sure he wanted to do more than just fuck you, but too little too late. You’re hungry for it and so is he, if the sounds between you are enough to go by.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you lift yourself and allow his hand to disappear between the two of you. You can feel him position himself right at your entrance and all you need to do is sink down. You don’t yet though and instead look at him.

He stares back at you with anticipation, and when you sink down just a tiny bit, he’s lunging his lips forward and kissing you again. Continuously as you sink down inch by inch, feeling him stretch you out in a searing type of pleasure, Mark just groans into your mouth. You can feel his chest heave against you as he feels your walls start to envelop him and when you’re finally seated, he pulls you down with him as he falls against the mattress.

There, in a hug, his mindless kissing becomes even more vacant as he holds you in place, fucking his hips up and into you in an aggressive pace. His lips release from yours and his moans come out strangled, breathless, and entirely desperate for you.

He’s deeper inside of you than any man has ever been able to reach without the aid of a toy, and the head and thickness of it is far better than any plastic could ever be. You imagine you sound just as desperate as he does right now. Unable to wiggle in his grasp, you just take it. You were well versed in that, at least.

Mark holds you there for at least a full moment, feeling you clenching and drenching his cock in a way that makes the slide easy and pleasurable for him. His hips can move much faster this way, but the fear of coming too quickly forces him to slow his movements and open his eyes.

Your legs are spred out over his own, his cock is buried into you completely, and you fucking just take it? God, No wonder Doyoung is in love with you.

Mark’s arms release you from the hug and he uses one hand to lift your face.

“Sorry,” He says before getting a look at your face, but he ends up losing any thought in his head when he notes how blown your pupils are, face still contorted in a silent moan as you bounce yourself against him now.

What he was gonna say was that he was sorry he lost control for a second, but what he ends up saying now is “Oh my god, I want this so bad.”

Despite that Mark is getting everything he wants at this moment, all he can do is look at you and watch you grind your clit against his pelvic bone chasing a pleasure that he knows you’re feeling intensely right now. He thinks of himself in pity, all those nights of wanting exactly this and never knowing that he actually fucking gets to do it.

Without thinking, Mark doesn’t even know why he does it, but he keeps his cock buried deeply into you and knocks you over. He follows your body, adjusting himself behind you and pulling your leg up and draping it over his hip. There, he slips out of you only slightly to hear you whine at the loss. You’ve gone so silent save for moaning and he thinks he’s in love with you. Stuffing you again, he smiles at the way you throw your head back and look at him from behind you.

One hand now reaches around you and cradles one of your tits, the other snaking between your legs and experimentally tapping against your clit.

“Damn, Mark,” You manage to say in a more stable voice, realizing that he’s really fucking you in the spooning position now? Of course he fucking would. It’s such an intimate position, and the angle, you could argue, is one of the best you think you’ve ever felt.

“Hm?” He hums against your shoulder, feeling your body jerk as he fucks his length into you repeatedly. “Feels good, right?” He asks, moaning himself this time at the way you close your legs around his hand and grind back against him.

He’s quick to abandon your clit to push your legs open again, draping it right back in the same spot over his own legs. He can imagine how spread out you look, despite not being able to see it in this position. He’s heard time and time that women like this angle, and now’s the chance to test it.

This time, when you reach back and pull his face to yours, now kissing him with more force than you had before, he imagines the rumors were true. His fingers find their way back to your clit.

Mark’s moving his hips with intent now, trying his best to control how good he feels so that way he can focus on yours, and after one particularly deep thrust, he notices that you jolt and shiver.

“Oh my god, did I find it?” He asks, experimentally pressing his hips up the same way.

“Fuck-” You choke out, your body jolting without intent again and feeling shockwaves of what you can only describe as mini orgasms shooting throughout your muscles. “Right there, keep doing that,” You frantically encourage him, mouth falling slack against his lips.

He does, pressing his hips harder this time in the same pay. Repeatedly hitting the soft spot inside of you and ultimately sending you into a world of something you’ve, strangely, never felt before in terms of sex.

Mark watches you roll your head back, moaning out with a slack and somewhat pained face as he does it. He cannot fucking believe he found your g-spot on the first try and he will be damned to stop now.

He focuses now, grunting at the way your walls clench him so tightly each time he hits your spot with the head of his cock. He’s determined to make you come, make you babble out strings of his name and how good he feels. He needs you to feel so good that you’ll never think twice of letting him do this again, and again, and again, no matter how close you could be to getting caught.

His hips are going at a pace faster now than he thought possible, and with his fingers working your clit paired with his cock driving into the single most pleasurable spot inside of you, you find your body tensing up and your mind erasing every thought and memory. It’s so much to feel at once but you feel too weak to stop him for just the smallest moment of collecting yourself.

“Are you going to?” He asks, broken with his own moans and deep breaths as he does his best to keep pace and work you through it. “I know you want to.” He manages to breathe out, mimicking your own words from the time you had him in the palm of your hand.

And you do want to. So you fucking do. You come hard around him, clenching him so tightly that Mark stills his hips in disbelief at the way your body moves when you release. He can barely get the words out when he speaks, feeling you drench him with liquid fire. “You’re squeezing me so tight–” He chokes out, jerking his hips back and trying to pull out of you for his own release.

“Do not pull out,” You groan as your orgasm continues to choke you of your breath. “Let me feel it, do it.” You demand, pressing yourself back and enveloping the inches of him that he had pulled from you.

“Fuck. fuck.” He moans out louder this time, hands gripping your waist and holding you against him as he shakes behind you. You can feel him twitch inside of you as he shoots those thick, white ropes of cum against your walls. For a brief moment you remembered when he released from your hand, pressing himself slowly and roughly into your first. You were right.

Mark buries himself as deep as he can go, only grinding back a few centimeters before pressing himself flush against you as another spurt paints the flesh inside of you. You feel so full, and he’s packed so tightly in you that you genuinely think this is the first time you’ve ever actually felt a man come inside of you. Like really feel it.

When he’s done, he’s so fucking fast to pull out of you. It shocks you, actually.

“Where are you going?” You ask, looking behind you as he backs away from you momentarily in a panic.

“I–” He pauses, looking at you and the way your eyes look back at him in a different type of panic. “Don’t know.” He says, getting back onto the bed and reluctantly putting his arms around you in a hug.

“I don’t know how to like, end this.” He admits against your shoulder, still reeling from the fact that it happened, but now in a post-nut state of mind and kind of scared of how much he loved doing that with you.

“End it?” You ask, pulling away from him. “You want to stop?”

“You don’t?” He asks, a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes.

“I mean, we both know what we are doing…” You trail off, sitting yourself up and fully aware that the guilt will always hit you at random times, but still, you want Mark. “And we still kept doing it.”

“Yeah, but–”

“But?” You ask, turning your body to face him as he sits himself up now. The nakedness of your bodies is not at all embarrassing at this moment.

“Mark, I don’t think I can like, not want you if you still want me.”

He nods his head reluctantly, wondering if this is you offering the fact that you’re willing to straight up, blatantly, and shamelessly cheat on Doyoung with him.

“Ugh,” Mark puts his face in his hands and then runs his fingers through his hair. “This is so fucked up.”

“Yeah, it is.” You admit, leaning towards him. “But If you never tell anyone,”

“No, no! I wouldn’t.” Mark throws his hands up defensively. “I only feel bad when you’re not here.” He says questioning himself. “I don’t think I’d be able to like, not ever do this again.”

“So we are both in this same little fucked up boat?” You ask.

“I guess so.” He laughs at himself, and then at you. “If he ever finds out, you know i’ll be found in a ditch somewhere, right?”

You laugh, despite it being the worse fucking joke in the world. Running hand in hand with Mark into a fire that you both fucking searched for.

“Well, I’m not gonna fucking tell him.” You say, pressing the important matter at hand. “The point is, Mark, I need you to understand that I’ve never cheated on anyone.”

Somehow, he lightens the mood.

“Damn, I must be special.”

You guess he is.

#mark lee smut #mark smut #nct 127 smut #nct smut #neo-hub #nct-writers #nct dream smut #mark lee fic

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its-time-to-write · 1 year

Note

I love your writing! Can I request a Jamie tartt x reader where the reader is a famous actor or musician and it’s like the team meeting them or the media finding out? Thank you!!

I loved this! Thanks for requesting!

you know, you’ll always know me

“Jamie Tartt has been spotted around Manchester with lead singer and songwriter from band Room 17,” Isaac reads aloud. He snaps the paper shut and looks at Jamie. “Oi, when did you have time to go to Manchester?”

Jamie shrugs. “I dunno, mate, two nights ago?”

There’s a clamor of disbelief from the team throughout the locker room.

Colin’s voice cuts through the din. “Mate, that’s a four-hour drive. You drove eight hours to hookup with a famous singer?”

Jamie grins. “No.”

Isaac: “Elaborate.”

Jamie replies, “Nope,” popping the “p” sound at the end.

The boys chorus, “Aye, c’mon man, what the fuck,” right as Ted and Beard walk in.

“What’s all the hubbub?” Ted asks. “Usually that level of resignation is reserved for one of my many, specially-tailored puns.”

“Jamie hooked up with someone famous,” Sam answers.

Beard looks at Jamie. “Saw the papers. You’re way out of her league.”

Jamie puts his hands up. “That’s not what she said Tuesday night.”

“So you did hook up with her!”

“Look-” Jamie replies, “she said I ain’t allowed to talk about it in the locker room and I ain’t allowed to tell just anybody. She likes things private and I don’t blame her because you lot are a load of animals.”

Ted makes a mock offended face while Beard shrugs like yeah, that’s true.

Will looks up, thoughtful expression on his face. “Jamie, she said no locker room talk?”

Jamie says, “Yeah, why?”

“I mean, we could just, I dunno, go… somewhere else?”

“Will, you fucking genius,” Colin says, and Isaac gets up to go shake Will’s hand while saying, “Everyone, boot room, now!”

Less than a minute later, everyone is crowded into the boot room. Including Trent, Rebecca, and Higgins, who are never ones to miss a good story. Roy is the only one not present, with a short “fuck off!” at Ted’s extended invitation.

They’re all huddled around Jamie, whispering quietly amongst themselves until Isaac holds up a hand.

“Alright! Jamie’s going to tell us how he managed to pull the lead singer from Room 17, and then he’s going to apologize to,” Isaac checks a note on his phone and reads, “Dani, Sam, Richard, and Jan Maas because he knew they had a crush on her, and then to Colin because that’s his favorite band and you didn’t say shit to him.”

“Eh? That ain’t fair! We all had equal opportunity, I’m just the only one who took it,” Jamie replies indignantly.

There’s a “WHAT,” in unison from at least half the team followed by more clamoring.

“Oi, oi!” Jamie says. “Pipe down, and I’ll tell ya.

It was when we went to that club last month. I was gettin’ drinks for me and Dani, and there was this absolutely gorgeous girl sitting at the bar, scribbling somethin’ on a napkin. I was gonna introduce meself, but right as I went to say hey, she stood up and knocked both drinks out of me hand. One got on me and the other got on her napkin and I said ‘sorry about your napkin,’ and she said ‘nah it’s shit anyway. Sorry about your shirt,’ so I said, ‘it looks better on the floor.’ Guess she liked that, ‘cause that’s where it ended up.”

“That was a month ago, Jamie,” Sam interjects. “How did you end up in the papers this morning?”

Jamie grins and sticks out his tongue. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Isaac smacks the back of his head and Jamie yelps. “Ok, ok, I’ll tell ya!”

The team crowds closer. Rebecca is farther in the back, and she’s seemed strangely uninterested this whole time, typing on her phone.

“So. Turns out, she’s fit and funny, and she starts telling me she writes her own songs. And she say it ain’t a big deal, just something she does for fun, and I say I play football and it is a big deal, but she already knew who I was. Anyway, didn’t figure out who she was till after I asked her on a proper date, and I guess she thought that was cute or some shit. We’ve been sneakin around ever since.” Here Jamie smiles angelically. “I am cute or some shit.”

Ted, Beard, and Trent nod in assent and just before the team can bombard Jamie with questions, his phone dings then rings. Rebecca finally looks up from her phone in the back as Jamie checks his.

You’re calling him, so he makes a pipe down motion and answers.

“Hello Jamie Tartt,” you say. “What are you doing right now?”

“Hey babe!” he replies, team saying silent oohs and making kissy faces. “Not much, just with the lads. Did you see the papers?”

You laugh. “Yes, I saw the papers. I suppose it was only a matter of time before it got out, and I know I’m a little late to the party, but you can tell the team now.”

You can hear Jamie’s smile through the phone as he says, “Thanks babe. Y’know they’re like my family.”

Even though he can’t see you, you nod. “I do know. That’s why I’m not upset that you’re in the boot room right now and have already told them everything.”

Jamie is stunned into silence as the team whispers, “what did she say, what did she say?”

“You can put me on speaker,” you say.

Jamie does and then asks, “How the fuck did you know where I was and what I was doing? Are you psychic?”

Jamie looks up around the room and Rebecca of all people catches his eye and winks as you say, “Oh, well, Rebecca Welton and I have been close for ages. She started texted me the moment she heard you were going to the boot room. She’s known about you and me since the first night.”

The room erupts into “WHATs,” and “Holy shits,” while Jamie goes to speak again.

“Babe,” he tries, but you can’t hear him above the noise. He pushes his way through the throng and out the boot room, Rebecca patting him on the shoulder as he goes past her.

“Babe,” he says again, “you sure you ain’t mad?”

Now he can hear your smile through the phone. “Yes, I’m absolutely positive. You could have told them sooner. And I think it’s funny that you went to the boot room to talk about it. Rebecca says it smells worse than shit.”

Jamie sighs. “Good. Good, yeah. I’m glad.”

“Actually,” you continue, “this got me out of my writing slump. I’ve been writing like crazy every time you leave. Got half an album in the works already.”

“Fuckin mental.” Jamie shakes his head. He’s great at football, sure, but your musical talent is something else.

“Jamie?” you ask hesitantly. “I- you know I- I mean-”

He cuts you off mid sentence with, “I love you.”

You’re holding your phone with both hands now. “How did you know what I was going to say?”

Jamie shrugs, then remembers you can’t see it. “Just your voice, I guess. Didn’t want you to feel awkward about it. Know we haven’t said it yet, but I do. And now that it’s out, maybe you can come down to Richmond for a proper football game, meet the lads.“

“I’d like that,” you smile. “Oh shit- my food’s burning. I’ve gotta go. I love you!”

“Love you too,” he replies. He hands up, slides his phone back into his pocket, and turns to see the entire Richmond team crowded around the boot room door, faces pressed to the glass. Jamie rolls his eyes, flips them off, and walks away, laughing. You’re going to love them.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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iwritefandomimagines · 1 year

Text

SET-UP — GREG HOUSE

masterlist

pairing: greg house x f!reader

description: wilson knew house had the hots for you, because every time you visited to have lunch with your best friend he seemed to make an appearance. so, after growing increasingly fed up of just watching his two best friends pine, he decides to do something about it.

warnings: swearing, maybe a tiny bit ooc for house at some points but i got a bit of writers block at one point and couldn’t get the flow so i hope it’s ok! other than that, not much else!

author’s note: i kinda wanna write some wilson imagines after this too hehe so if you have wilson requests please let me know ! i hope you enjoy <3

“Y/N’s coming for lunch today,” Wilson hummed, pulling his lips into a thin line to prevent the smirk threatening to grace them, “Around 1:15, I believe.”

House’s head snapped up from the pile of papers in his hands, but he tried to make it look like he was just astounded by something he’d read and not pleased he may get a chance to see you today.

“And you’re telling me about your lunch date, why?”

Wilson scoffed, “Because for someone who likes to joke that I was having an affair with her, you also seem very fond of flirting with her every chance you get.”

House rolled his eyes, waving his hand in the air dismissively, “Jealous, much? If anything it’s your mistress that’s taken a liking to me, I’d say.”

He wasn’t wrong — your lunchtime visits got more and more frequent once House had started imposing himself on your lunches.

Wilson was your best friend, and since you’d only just moved back to the area after a hell of a break-up and you worked nearby, you’d made a habit of coming to grab lunch with him.

You were both so perpetually busy of late that you rarely saw each other in your free time, so your lunch meet-ups were the perfect way to stay caught up… And to ogle at his other best friend as he brooded away in the corner.

“Sure, that’s why you’re always conveniently free at lunch when she’s visiting,” Wilson replied, shaking his head at him.

House pressed his hand to his chest and feigned a gasp, “Wow, so serendipitous. Maybe we are meant to be! I’d better go and buy a ring!”

It was Wilson’s turn to roll his eyes now, knowing that House wasn’t going to budge.

And that was when his plan was concocted.

Two hours later, at just around 1:20, House ambled past the cafeteria pretending not to be scanning the room for his best friend and you.

When he turned to leave, not spotting either of you and assuming plans had change, he collided with you and your hands flew to his chest as you steadied yourself in panic.

“Oh Greg! I’m so sorry,” you flushed crimson as he chuckled, leaning on his cane but placing one hand on your waist to help steady you too, “I was about to leave because James wasn’t here still and I assumed he was still busy with a patient.”

You were well aware of how his hand lingered on your waist still, and yours was still flush against his chest as you watched each other carefully.

“Strange. He seemed very excited about lunch today and he’s never la— ah, I see what’s going on here.” House deadpanned, finally moving his hand from its spot against you.

You mirrored him, moving your own hand back to your side as it clicked in your mind too just what was going on here.

“That little shit,” you laughed, “I should’ve known.”

You took a small step back, acutely aware of how close you were and how intensely he seemed to be watching your movements.

“You don’t, uh, have to have lunch with me,” you gazed at the floor for a moment, “I’ll grab something on my way home. I’ll just text him and let him know I’m heading off.”

“No,” House stayed still, barely a hint of a smile on his face until he seemed to consciously realise that and force one, “I’m starving. Might as well. You’re a much less insufferable eating companion than Wilson usually is anyway.”

You shook your head with a laugh, “Much less insufferable. Wow, House, anyone might think you’re actually in love with me. You’re just too kind.”

His lips broke into a small smile now too, pleased that your reaction had been in jest too.

He liked that you never took his jokes the wrong way, and maybe he should admit that Wilson was right to think he had feelings for you.

But admitting them made things much more complicated, and so he was more than happy to just continue flirting with you.

On the other hand, you were more than aware of House’s past thanks to Wilson, and though you’d suspected he may reciprocate your feelings for months now, you also were unsure of whether to bring it up.

You joined the cafeteria queue in a comfortable silence, sinking into your seats opposite each other minutes later and spending a moment just watching each other carefully.

As a small smile graced his lips, you couldn’t help but begin to feel brave.

“I like it when you have lunch with us,” you grinned, taking a bite of your food to punctuate the point you were making, “James thinks I enjoy it too much. It’s no surprise he’s done this, really. Sneaky asshole.”

House stared inquisitively at you, thinking over what he wanted to say in response, “I like having lunch with you too. Much more without Wilson here, surprisingly.”

You smiled softly across at him now, an unspoken undercurrent to his words that sat firmly in your chest and made you feel warm.

“I’m glad. I think it’d be nice if— if,” okay, the bravery was waning now as he continued to watch you carefully, a twinkle in his eye, “If we got food together, like, out of here sometime.”

His eyebrows raised for a split second as though he’d not expected that from you, but he leaned forward to rest his chin on his open palm as his elbow found the tabletop, “You do, hm?”

You nodded once, only quickly, as if afraid to confirm what you’d said any more for fear of embarrassment if he declined.

“Are you asking me on a date, Y/N?” he teased, and now you just blushed crimson again and looked down at the table with a small whine, “Greg!”

He shook his head, laughing at his own teasing and taking a bite out of his sandwich as if to deliberately keep you on edge waiting.

“I think a date with you sounds good,” he shrugged, as though entirely nonchalant about it, “If nothing else it’ll get Wilson off our backs, hey?”

You heaved out a sigh, no longer feeling the warm fuzziness you had been and instead just growing irritated.

You usually liked his dry sense of humour, and his tendency to play down every emotion or make light of every situation — but now you just felt mortified.

He seemed to realise this, shaking his head again and leaning forward even more, “Sorry— no, I’d actually like to go for dinner with you, Y/N. Because I want to, and have for a while. Not because our moron of a mutual friend has been trying to set us up for an infuriatingly long time.”

You felt your stomach flip at these words, hope reigniting a fire in the pit of your stomach as he continued eating his food.

“You’re not fucking with me?”

“Not before our first date!” he joked, feigning shock before chuckling at himself and then relaxing his face, “No, I’m not fucking with you. I’d like to take you on a date. This week, maybe.”

You took out your phone, opening up your contacts and pressing “Add a contact” with a blissful grin on your face, “Put your number in, then. And I’ll call you.”

“This isn’t one of those ‘“I’ll call you’’ and then you never come back for lunch and don’t call me’ moments is it?” you knew he was joking, but there was a small part of him that was genuinely unsure you were serious about this as he took your phone and entered his number.

“Why, happen often? Do women not swarm to you?” you giggled, taking back your phone and letting your hand linger on his for just a moment too long.

He cocked his head, “Don’t you know tortured souls with legs that barely work are like, so last season?”

You chuckled at that, “Well, I’m a last season kind of girl. And I’ve got to get back to work, but I will call you.”

“I’ll be waiting by the phone,” he joked, before softening his expression and rubbing a thumb over the back of your hand where it rested on the table in front of him, “I’ll see you soon, Y/N. Have a good day.”

You sent him a wide smile in return, standing up and discarding your rubbish in the bin on your way out as you waved a final goodbye.

As you reached the edge of the cafeteria, you finally saw Wilson’s tall frame approaching and shot him a knowing grin, shaking your head slowly at him as a smirk graced his lips.

“Oh, Y/N! I thought I’d missed you. Have you seen House?”

“Nope, no sign of him,” you sing-songed jokingly, almost failing at your charade until you watched his face drop under the belief that his plan had failed, “I’m joking, moron. We’re going on a date. Thanks, Cupid.”

The smirk returned to his face then, his eyes lighting up at the victory, “Ha! I knew it.”

You pulled him into a hug abruptly — because though his scheming was annoying, you were immeasurably grateful for his push because you’d never have had the courage to ask Greg fucking House on a date without it.

“Thanks, man,” you hummed, pulling away and ruffling his hair, “I just asked Greg House on a date because of you… What the actual fuck.”

“You asked him— no, actually I’m not surprised,” he shrugged, “I’m glad though. It was getting annoying watching you both silently pine, so I had to do something. I’m happy you’re finally doing something about it now.”

“You’re a pain in the ass, but I love you,” you gently shoved his shoulder, resting your hand on it for a moment before noticing your watch on your wrist and realising you needed to rush off, “Shit, I’d better go. I’ll text you later. Have a good day!”

“You too, Y/N,” he waved you off with a smile, blissfully relieved that his plan had worked and his too best friends were finally beginning to admit their feelings for each other, “Now to go and grill House!”

———

thanks so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed — sorry it’s been a while since i’ve posted as well. if you’d like to send in any requests, please feel free! and in the meantime, here is my masterlist!

#house #house md #house md imagines #house md imagine #greg house #gregory house #greg house x reader #greg house x y/n #greg house x you #house imagine #house imagines #james wilson

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 8 months

Note

aita for telling someone they're a horrible person and making them relapse?

trigger warning: self-harm, suicide(?)

so im, like many teenagers online, an avid participant of fandom spaces and my current favorite is genshin impact. if you've ever interacted with the genshin fandom you may guess where this is going but i happened to find myself liking a ship that is the big nono ship in this fandom (aka the incest ship, kaeluc) but since i mostly stick to my space and don't really interact with anyone that doesn't already have content of this ship on their account id never gotten into any hot water over it.. until recently.

this person, ill call them rick, suddenly liked a bunch of my (non-ship related) posts. normal interaction, i didn't think anything of if and moved on. (i didn't even notice at the time, but they unliked all of the posts before what happened next, i assume as they realized i was a proshipper and didn't want to associate with me.) next thing i know, the same user is in my askbox, sending me the most vile, hate filled messages i have ever seen.

ok... no biggie. i delete the asks, block them and move on with my life. but it doesn't stop. i had never in my whole life received hate online, but now for the first time ever, i had a dedicated hater, sending me anonymous asks at all times of the day. death threats, dox threats, telling me to kill myself, calling me a degenerate and all that, all with the same consistent writing style. now, one could say that maybe this wasn't rick, and maybe not even all the same person but i really feel like this is the only reasonable explanation considering i have like 6 followers and my most famous post has 3 notes. i don't think im important enough to have that many haters.

so, i did the only thing i could think to do: turned off anon asks. then the asks started coming from random throwaway accounts. ok...turned off asks. then it was dms. turned those off too. THE FUCKING COMMENT SECTIONS OF MY POSTS.

dedication isn't enough to describe this. at this point it's actually becoming distressing to me and im considering closing my whole account cause i just wanna get away from all this. im 16, i don't have the mental capacity to spend all day policing my social media because someone wants me to die for liking fictional incest.

so i very reluctantly unblock rick and send them a dm. i very gently ask if they are the person who has been sending me asks/dms/etc and if they are, if they could please stop because it's become genuinely distressing to me and i just want to be silly on a website. they block me.

alright, im now out of options. everything on my profile is blocked at this point and i don't even want to post anything else so i just kind of leave the account behind for a while. when i come back, i discover that someone HACKED into the account and defaced the whole thing (changed pfp, deleted posts etc etc) so now im genuinely bummed. i go to rick's profile and guess who has been unblocked? i ask them if they can please answer my question. they don't answer but instead tell me i deserve everything ive gotten and i should choke for all they care.

i tell them they're a terrible person and go absolutely off the rails like the dumb, upset teenager i am. i didn't say anything particularly horrible (mostly i just tell them about how awful they've made me feel over fictional shit that really doesn't matter and how i just wanted peace) but i definetely wouldn't like to receive a message like that. and rick didn't either, because they blocked me.

well, since im sure you're wondering where this comes in, here's where i kind of feel like an asshole:

i continued to stalk rick's account on a different blog (because i was bitter. ok?) and they've been posting about how they relapsed into self harm because of a message they received from a stranger and how they've been crying non-stop and this is the worst relapse they've had in years and etc etc and i just got this pit in my stomach. this person's bio says they're 15! i don't want to ever be the reason a fifteen year old is hurting themselves! i've been feeling like a piece of shit ever since (esp since i also deal with sh) and i just feel like the worse person ever. i honestly don't know if i was just acting like anyone else and this was an unfortunate consequence or if i need to go pray for god to forgive my sins or something.

aita?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #suicide cw #self harm cw #ship discourse

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hulhudhonado · 11 months

Text

So I Heard A Rumor...

Synopsis: You promised Kaeya drinks, he promised to be your wingman so you can finally ask his brother, Diluc, on a date. However your plan comes crashing when rumor comes out that you would be buying drinks for all the knights. You also just can't seem to get rid of this bard who keeps singing songs to you. Will you achieve your chance to ask your dream man out? Let's find out.

CW: ALCOHOL, OTHER THAN DILUC NO ONE IS GOING TO BE SOBER, minor swearing, Venti is a bit clingy too

HC: Reader is gender-neutral, Reader does not have a vision, Reader works as a knight, Reader is very clearly in love with Diluc (lol)

Characters: Diluc, Kaeya, Venti, Jean, Mentions of Favonious knights and Traveller (Honorary Knight)

Note: Going to apologise in advance because I have no idea how alcohol works as I am not a drinker and don't plan to. I clown on Diluc a lot because my friend is obsessed with him however funnily enough he is the character I have the most ideas with. I'm talking angst, fluff, comfort, everything. Anyway enjoy this cringe fest! Please make sure to like, comment or reblog the post. It helps it reach a wider audience and motivates me to write more silly stuff like this. Enjoy!

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The current situation was far from ideal. Tonight was supposed to be the night you finally dared to ask Diluc out on a date. However, right now you were surrounded by drunken knights who wouldn’t stop singing along with an even more drunk bard who had his whole body wrapped around you. You could see Diluc seething at the bar, his fist clenched on the glass so tight you were certain it would break any minute now.

Backtracking to how you have ended up in this situation, it all started because of a rumour. Whispers among the crowd saying Donna was going to make her move soon. You couldn’t allow this, you had loved Diluc since his days as a knight! Sure you never dared to confess this entire time but Donna barely had any history with this man compared to you! She had a long way to go to get to your level. However, it didn’t help that Diluc was a bachelor and a perfect one at that. Even if Donna did or didn’t make her move, someone else might snatch him up sooner or later. It didn’t help that the honorary knight seemed to have become close to him as well. You need to act fast.

So you made a deal with Kaeya, if anyone was going to help you it had to be him. When you first told him about your crush he burst out laughing, before realising you were serious.

“Wait shit for real?” He asked, dumbfounded. You nod, trying not to be embarrassed. He stared at you like you had just said the most unbelievable thing. In Kaeya’s defence, you did say the most outrageous thing imaginable. He knew Diluc was considered a hot target in the single’s market, but for you to also fall for his charms? A shocking revelation.

“Are you going to help me or not?” You ask, now impatient. You didn’t have time to let him make fun of you for liking his brother, someone could be seducing him right now! Kaeya blinked at you in disbelief. However, his face soon shifted to a shit-eating grin. You groaned, instantly regretting your decision. “If you’re not then I’m going to ask someone else ok?!” You exclaim, annoyed and try your best not to give him more reason to make fun of you.

“Nah nah! You came to the right place! I’ll help, I'm an amazing wingman!” He laughed. You shushed him, you didn’t want anyone else to know about this and Kaeya tried his best to hold in his laughter but chuckles and giggles could not stop escaping this man. “Just buy me a couple of drinks and I’ll make sure you both end up in bed together by the end of the night!” He teased, which only made you groan.

That was the plan, you buy him drinks and he would help you look good enough for Diluc to swoon over you. However, for some reason, word got out and suddenly the whole knight team was out and about ready to get drinks from you.

“Wow, aren't you generous? Paying for the knights to drink as much as they want!” Swan chuckled. You didn’t know how it ended up like this, even Kaeya shrugged at you confused. Somehow word got out that you would be paying for ALL the knights to drink until they passed out. It had gotten so big that even Jean decided to join in.

“Well, the knights barely have time to come together and have fun, so I couldn’t miss this.” She smiled at you and that stopped you from calling the whole thing off because there was no way you could say no to Jean.

So now here you were, at Angel Share, drunk knights singing and playing games at the bar. You chugged down on a bottle of wine, feeling like absolute shit. Not only were you going to have to pay for all this but right now you were the worst offender in Diluc’s eyes. Dragging all the knights here and ruining his shift. All you wanted to do was confess but instead, you ended up creating the worst environment for any love to happen.

Finally the damn bard on your lap. You don’t know how he got into this but he was drinking off your tab as well. He was so grateful for your generosity that he decided the best way to show it was by singing tunes dedicated to you while sitting on your lap. He had one arm wrapped over your neck, which strummed the lyre in his hands. He was wrapped around you like spaghetti on a fork. It didn’t help that Diluc could see this man sit on your lap while singing tunes about how wonderful you were.

So right now in Diluc’s eyes, you were, a drunk who wastes their money on alcohol, loves to bring chaos to environments, and also a flirt who has no shame in doing PDA with strangers. The least ideal person to date. You avoided any eye contact with Diluc, you could not face him at this point. You turned to look at Kaeya who was completely out of it. He had drunk so much that he was pretty much passed out just a couple of minutes ago.

‘So much for being a wingman…’ you thought, but honestly speaking in this situation, if Kaeya spoke up it would have probably ended up worse. You looked at the time, seeing how it was almost 12. The bar was set to close soon and Diluc would begin to kick out the knights. Finally, this terror would end and you could go back to your house to cry yourself to sleep. You were smart enough to call the next day off. you hoped whoever spread the rumour had a terrible hangover tomorrow while working the next day. They deserved it.

As you continued to curse the people who spread these twisted rumours, the bard decided to speak up after chugging down another glass. “You seem down my friend! Another song will cheer you up!” He laughed, stringing his lyre once more ready for another song. Cheers of knights could be heard across the bar, hyping him up for another. You sighed, placing a hand on the lyre and putting it down. “No no, I think we had enough songs for tonight. Let’s end the night guys.” You say, trying to stand up while carrying the bard bridal style.

As you tried to stand up, the bard whined trying to shake you off. You underestimating how drunk you were couldn’t carry his weight anymore, especially when he was moving around. You tried to steady yourself but the bard would not stop squirming leading you to slip and fall down. Making sure the bard didn’t hit the floor, and get hurt you shifted your body so you would land on the ground instead, your back hitting flat on the floor while the bard fell on top of you to soften his fall.

The bard whined, resting his head on your chest while you had your grip him to make sure he didn’t get hurt during the fall. The crack of glass could be heard in an instance. Everyone turned towards the sound to see that Diluc had in fact, shattered the glass he was cleaning the entire night.

“Out.” He said. The aura in the tavern immediately turned grim. Knights anxiously made their way out the door, saying their goodbyes to you. Jean carried Kaeya on her back, giving you a weak drunk smile before heading out as well. The bard clearly didn't get the clue as he had passed out on top of you.

Diluc was mad and it was all your fault. You could feel the tears come out. It especially didn’t help that you were drunk out of your mind, unable to hold back your emotions. You gently pushed the bard off you, trying to stand up. At this point, the only people left were you, Diluc, and the passed-out bard.

You mumble sorry, trying to get up while tears continue to flow down your face. Unable to see clearly made it a bit of a struggle to get up, it also prevented you from noticing Diluc who had somehow made his way to you. You jolted up, almost falling over once more, but he caught you before another slip occurred. His arm wrapped your waist gently, steadying you up. You could feel yourself heat up.

“You have to be careful. Here.” He mumbled, guiding you to sit down. You were shocked he had not kicked you out honestly. You looked at him teary-eyed as he pulled out a handkerchief from his apron, dapping your tears away.

“You can sit here and wait until I close. I’ll drop you off afterward. “ He exclaimed, placing the cloth in your hands. “Oh no you don’t have to, I need to drop off the bard home first.” You say, your hands gripping on the cloth ever so tightly. You didn’t dare to stay with Diluc, especially after how terrible the night went. You wanted to leave as soon as possible but the minute you mentioned the bard you could see Diluc halt.

His gaze turned cold as he glared at the unconscious bard on the floor. He walked towards him, picking the bard up from the scruff of his clothes and heading towards the door. He tossed the bard out like trash before dusting his hands off. “Venti can figure out his way to get home. You're unsteady and drunk, so I’m taking you home myself.” You had no escape now. Muttering an ok, you put your head down trying to feel as small as you could.

Were you such a mess that Diluc didn’t think you were capable enough to get home? You were still a knight! Sure you weren’t an honorary knight but you were one, and a decent one at that. You could feel your thoughts spiral but it always leads to the same conclusion. Diluc would never like you back and probably felt pity for you.

You didn’t know how long you were lost in your thoughts, before Diluc spoke up. “I’m done, let’s get going.” He said. You try to answer but the alcohol finally seems to be in your system because you couldn't force yourself to say coherent words. You groan which only made Diluc sigh.

He lifted you from your seat, making you wrap your arm around his neck. He wrapped his arm around your waist once more and held onto your arm with his hand. You immediately could feel the heat from his body. You were already sweating because of the alcohol but now with his heat on your side, you could almost feel your skin burn. You whine, trying to push him away a bit but his grip on you was firm. You look him directly in the eyes. Big mistake.

He had the same poker face he usually had but for some reason, stars were dancing in his eyes tonight. Was he always this beautiful? You weren’t sure if the alcohol was playing tricks on your mind because you couldn’t believe how stunning this man looked. Looking carefully at his face you could see light scars scattered around his jaw. His cheeks were decorated with slight freckles. You couldn't believe how close you were to even notice them.

You weren’t sure what came over you but it was too late to stop the words from spilling out of your mouth. “I’m in love with you.” You stared at him before suddenly realising what you had just said. You can’t believe you had just said that. You wanted to take it back, your brain was wrecking up on excuses to say to him.

‘It’s a joke’ or ‘I didn’t mean to say that’ or even an ‘I meant it for someone else’. Your brain kept thinking of various things you could say but nothing would spill out. So here you were mouth gaping open, begging yourself to say something.

Diluc sighed, and you could feel your heart shatter. “Let’s take you home.” You didn’t argue, letting him drag you back to your house. You could feel yourself fall asleep on the way. You gave up in defeat. At least you were off the next day, you would be able to drown in your sorrows tomorrow.

As you tried to comfort yourself, you felt yourself drift off asleep. You could hear Diluc speak but the words wouldn’t register, you needed to escape from him for a bit.

—

You woke up on your bed, you turned to look out the window to see that it was still clearly night. You groan, sitting up on your bed. Your room was dark but you could see a light peeking under the door of your room, the living room light was still on. You groggily walk out of the room to turn it off, only to see Diluc outside. He was in the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets.

You look at him in disbelief while he turns to face you. “You ok? It’s too late to buy hangover medicine so I wanted to see if you had any stocked up.” You try to speak, only to be stopped by a cough. Your throat felt so dry, you couldn’t say a word. “Oh, drink this.” Diluc handed you a glass of water, which you chugged down in an instant.

“I was going to hand it to you with the medicine but never mind. You should go rest, I’ll leave soon.” He said, continuing his search in your cupboard. You shook your head. “You can just leave, it’s fine, I can take care of myself.” You wanted him gone as soon as possible. As domestic as it felt having him in your house taking care of you, this man rejected your confession and you didn’t have the strength to handle it at this moment.

You had a splitting headache and a broken heart and Diluc being here was not going to fix that. Diluc halted, stopping his search, you could see a frown on his face as he closed the drawers before turning to you. “Can I ask you something?” He asked, ever so quietly. He was always a silent type of guy, but even this time you could hear how vulnerable he was. The way he asked you in such a soft way made you instantly answer him without a second thought. “Go ahead.” You wanted to hit yourself, you wish you didn’t have such a soft spot for him.

“I heard a rumour, going around…” he continued. He played with his hands, fiddling them about as if he was feeling shy. You cringed at the thought, why would Diluc of all people feel shy? You were just being delusional at this point. As you contemplated your thoughts he continued. “People were saying you invited the knights out for drinks because you got engaged, is that true?”

The cup you had in your hands dropped to the ground. You were glad it wasn’t glass because it would have shattered in an instant, and you had seen enough things shatter today. However, you honestly could not believe the words that had just come out of Diluc’s mouth. “Wait what? Are you serious?” You ask, completely thinking this was a prank. “Why would you think that? Who would even say that?” Who was spreading these rumours around? You were going to kill them.

“So it’s false?” “Of course it’s false! I’m not even dating anyone!” You exclaim, now wondering whether your confession was rejected because Diluc thought you were cheating on your nonexistent partner.

“So you aren’t dating Venti?” “I don’t even know who that is!” You say, frustrated. You put your hands on your face, feeling annoyed. You groan into them in anger. All these stupid rumours were the reason you were here with a horrible headache and Diluc looking at you like you were scum on Earth. You wanted to crawl up into a ball and disappear right now.

“Then can you do me a favour?” Diluc spoke up, disturbing your grovelling session. You look up from your hands and stare at him sadly. “What?” You weakly ask.

“Can you confess to me again when you aren’t drunk?” You blink, unsure of what you just heard. “What?” You say, still unable to process what he had just asked you to do.

“Your confession. Say it to me when you aren’t drunk.” He said once more, looking at you with his unchanged expression. He was being deadly serious. He was asking you to confess again. “Wait wait, so you don’t hate me?” Diluc tilted his head, eyebrow raised. He seemed shocked you even said that. “Why would I ever hate you? Were people saying that?” He asked, crossing his arms, his face turned dark when he said it but you shook your head. “No no, but, does that mean you like me?” You ask, feeling sheepish.

And for the first time this entire night, you could see a small smile fall on his lips. His face softened, no longer a glare in his eyes. His cheeks rose a bit when he smiled and you were certain this smile was for you. “Ask again when you aren’t reeking of alcohol.” He retorted back playfully. “Now, off to bed, I’ll head out now. I heard that you won’t be at work tomorrow so I better hear from you soon.”

With that, he left you, alone in your house, with your thoughts full of him. You knew for a fact you were not going to be able to sleep the entire night, nor was your headache going to be fixed by any type of medicine.

Sorry Mondstadt, but your favourite bachelor is finally going to be off the market!

—

The slight sounds of a lyre could be heard in the distance on the streets of Mondstadt. A drunk bard still singing a tune.

“Did you hear about this rumour? There is going to be love in the air soon~”

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#diluc x reader #diluc ragnivindr x reader #diluc ragnivindr x gender-neutral reader #diluc x gender-neutral reader #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin fluff #genshin x reader

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canirove · 25 days

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Broken Hearts Football Club | Bonus chapter 2

Author’s note: This chapter is a long one compared to what I usually write, but I feel like it made sense to have it all in just one and not make two since everything revolves around the same topic, and there are some time jumps that I hope aren't too confusing. I also am still working on the third and last one (was supposed to finish it last night during the champions league game, but things happened 😅), though I think I can have it ready for next Thursday. Fingers crossed 🤞🏻 Hope you like it, and as always, thank you for reading! 💜

First chapter | Last chapter | Bonus chapter 1 | Bonus chapter 3

Masterlist

A few years after the previous chapter...

“I think I'm getting the watch, Chilly. I… Chilly?” Mason said, looking around. “Please wrap it for me. Thank you” he said to the jeweller's shop assistant before joining his friend. “Benjamin!”

“Bloody hell, Mason” Ben said, his hand instinctively moving to his heart. “You scared the hell out of me.”

“Shit, sorry. Are you ok?”

“Yeah, yeah, don't worry. What happened?”

“That I was calling you and you weren't listening. What were you so interested… No!” Mason gasped.

“It isn't what it looks like.”

“Isn't it?” he laughed. “Chilly, you were checking engagement rings! Are you thinking about proposing to June?”

“What? No!”

“Oh, so you were checking them just for fun.”

“Yeah” Ben shrugged.

“You are such a bad liar, Benjamin” he laughed again. “Tell me all about it.”

“About what?”

“About how you are going to ask June to marry you!”

“Shh, lower down your voice!” he said, looking around. The shop was almost empty, but if someone recognised them…

“Ok, ok. How are you going to do it?” Mason whisperer.

“I'm not going to do it.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because June doesn't want to marry me” Ben said.

“Bullshit, Chilly. June is madly in love with you! And you told me that she had confessed that she wanted to start a family with you one day.”

“She did, yes. But she never mentioned getting married, and that was when we moved in together a few years ago. Now…”

“Now nothing has changed. If you ask me, it has actually gotten worse, because when you guys started dating, you weren't as cheesy and annoying as you are now.”

“We are what?” Ben laughed.

“Cheesy and annoying. Sometimes I fear I may end up having a sugar rush just by looking at you.”

“Sure.”

“I'm being serious, Chilly. If you ask June to marry you, she is gonna say yes. I have zero doubts about it.”

“I don't know, Mason…” he sighed. “Because I've brought up the topic a few times since Vittoria got engaged, and she's always ignored me and started to talk about something else. It's like she avoids it.”

“What do you mean?”

“After Vitto’s engagement party I asked her about the ring, if it was her style and if she liked it, and she gave me a vague answer and started to talk about the food. Same after she came back from going wedding dress shopping for the first time with her and after she told us they were going to get married in Italy. I asked her if she liked any of that for herself, and she changed the topic. And do you know why, Mason? Because she doesn't want to marry me.”

“Ben, I think you are taking things out of context here.”

“I'm not” he insisted. “After what happened when we moved in she got scared, and now she doesn't want to take the next step in our relationship because she fears everything may go to hell.”

“But that won't be happening.”

“I know! But you know June. After all these years, she still feels insecure about us. You don't know how many times she's told me that she has to pinch herself from time to time to make sure that she isn't dreaming, that her happiness is real.”

“That's something cute to say, Chilly. Not insecurity.”

“But this is June, Mason. This… nevermind.”

“Ben…”

“Are you buying that watch?”

“I am, but Ben… You need to talk with June about this. Don't be stupid.”

“I will, don't worry. C'mon.”

“Ben…”

“I will” he said. “Now let's go pay for that watch and get something to eat, I'm famished.

“Fine” Mason sighed, giving up.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Hello, Chilwell.”

“Hi” Ben smiled as June sat down on the sofa next to him and kissed his cheek. “How was the wedding dress shopping today?”

“We found the one!”

“Really?”

“Yep” she smiled. “Vittoria looks amazing. She's gonna be the most stunning bride ever.”

“I beg to differ.”

“What?” she laughed.

“You, June Maxwell, are gonna be the most stunning bride ever.”

“I'm afraid you are a bit biased here, Chilwell.”

“It is a fact, not an opinion.”

“You and your facts” she chuckled.

“Yes, me and my facts. They are always right.”

“Are they?” she asked, arching an eyebrow. “Because I remember you writing about how I would never get to be top 3 at the Ballon d'Or, and a couple of years later there you were, cheering for me when I got second place.”

“The exception that proves the rule” he shrugged. “You are gonna be the most stunning bride ever, June.”

“Yeah, well… I also found my bridesmaid dress, by the way! It's super comfortable, I can even get down on one knee. And it makes my butt look so good. All the girls said that you won't be able to keep your hands to yourself, Chilwell. It's a fact” she smirked.

“Yeah, well…” he said, repeating the same words June had just said, sounding as disinterested as she had.

“Ben, are you ok? Did something happen when you were out with Mason?”

“Uh?”

“You've gone so serious…” she said, caressing his cheek.

“It's nothing, don't worry.”

“Saying that is only making me worry a lot more.”

“I'm fine, June. Just a bit tired” Ben smiled.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Ok… Why don't you start making dinner while I take a shower and then I help you?”

“Why don't we shower together and then make dinner?” he smirked.

“That actually sounds like a better plan.”

“I know” he grinned.

“But weren't you tired?”

“When it comes to loving you I'm never tired, June.”

“Aww, he's gone all cheesy” she smiled.

“According to Mason, as time has gone by we've become super cheesy.”

“What?”

“Yeah” Ben shrugged. “Anyway, shall we?”

“Let's go” June said, getting up from the sofa. And as she started to walk… “Chilwell!” she laughed when he pinched her butt.

“I'm sorry, Maxwell, I couldn't help myself. It looks so peachy” he smirked again.

“So peachy… so peachy… Idiot!” she said before sticking out her tongue and starting to run upstairs, Ben doing the same after her, both of them laughing like two kids.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“June, have you checked your phone?” Vittoria said.

“Not since before training. Why?” she replied while getting dressed.

“Because there is an article about Ben and Mason in The Sun, and it involves you.”

“Me? How? Did they… Did they find out about when Mason and I…” It had been years since their hook up. Could the press have somehow found out about it now?

“It isn't about that. Look” Vittoria said, showing her her phone.

“Oh my God” June gasped.

“Wedding bells for June Maxwell and Ben Chilwell? The ex football player and tv pundit was seen at a famous jeweller's with best friend Mason Mount, where he stopped to check some engagement rings according to eyewitnesses.”

“June… Do you think… Do you think he is going to propose?” Vittoria asked her.

“I… I… I gotta go” she blurted out, taking her things and almost tripping as she put on her shoes and ran towards the changing room’s door all at the same time.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“You've seen it, haven't you?” June said, storming into the kitchen.

“Hello to you too” Ben chuckled.

“Have you seen it or not?” she asked again.

“Seen what?”

“The article on The Sun, Chilwell.”

“Oh, that” he said, finding the carrot he was cutting extremely interesting.

“Yes, that” she replied. “Ben… Are you going to propose?”

“Straight to the point” he said with a sad chuckle.

“Are you or not?”

“I'm not, June. I know you don't want to marry me, so why bother?”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah” he shrugged.

“Why do you say that, Ben?”

“Because it is the truth. Didn't you hear the way you just sighed when I said that I'm not going to propose?”

“Yes, but…”

“And for the past few months you've been avoiding the topic every time I've brought it up, always starting to talk about something else. I guess you are scared of things going to hell like happened when we moved in together, afraid that this time we may not be able to fix them because getting married is something big.”

“Ben, that's not it” June said, moving to stand next to him.

“Isn't it?”

“No, it isn't” she said, cupping his face and forcing him to look at her. “Ben, I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“But…”

“There isn't a but.”

“Then why don't you want to marry me? I thought marriage was something you believed in.”

“And I do. I do believe in marriage, Ben.”

“Then why do you keep avoiding talking about it, June?”

“It's…” she said, looking for the right words. “Ben, I want to marry you. I truly do. But not now.”

“What?” he said.

“It isn't the right moment. And not because I am scared. I mean, a little part of my brain will always be scared, that's who I am” she shrugged. “But not my heart. Never my heart. Because you mended it with your love, Ben. And every night when I fall asleep, I do it knowing that you are the man I want to spend the rest of my life with. The man of my dreams, the one I'm destined to grow old with. Because I love you, Benjamin James Chilwell. I fucking love you, you hear me?”

“I love you too, June Elizabeth Maxwell” he smiled. “And to be honest, we don't need a piece of paper telling us what we already know, do we?”

“Exactly. So stop with the conspiracy theories, ok? That was my job, not yours.”

“Ok” he chuckled.

“I'm serious, Chilwell. Now that I don't have doubts anymore, that I'm 100% sure I want this… us… I don't need you, the one who has been sure about his feelings since the beginning, starting to doubt.”

“I won't fuck it up. I promise.”

“Swear it on your collection of trainers.”

“What?” Ben laughed.

“Do it. Swear it on them.”

“Ok, ok. I swear it. No more doubts.”

“Good” June smiled. “Because I do want to marry you, Ben. I do, and I will. You just need to be a bit patient, ok?”

“Ok” he smiled back, all the stupid doubts he had been having, finally going away. June loved him, and she wanted to marry him, she wanted it all with him. Nothing had changed.

“Now move that nice ass of yours and get our dinner ready. I'm famished.”

“So bossy, Maxwell” he said with a teasing smile.

“Get used to it, Chilwell. You are stuck with me for the rest of your very long life.”

“Looking forward to it” he smiled. And he had meant it. Because he was looking forward to growing old and grey (maybe a bit bald too) with her, married or not.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

A few months later...

“Ben…”

“Uhm?”

“Ben, there are people watching.”

“And?”

“And we can't do this in front of them” June said, taking the hand that was dangerously moving up her thigh and letting it rest on the table. “This, has to stay here.”

“It can't, Maxwell. Because you and the girls were right. That bridesmaid dress is making it impossible to keep my hands to myself.”

“Well, you must, Chilwell. It is Vittoria's wedding, and we can't ruin it because we are getting arrested for inappropriate behaviour. Have you forgotten that her dad is a police officer?”

“How could I?” he laughed. “May I remind you that when we started dating and you introduced us, he basically threatened to throw me in the deepest part of the Mediterranean if I dared hurting you?”

“He loves me very much, yes” she smiled.

“He does. Though not as much as I love you.”

“Chilwell!” June giggled when he started kissing her neck.

“Guys, can you please leave that for later?” Lauren interrupted them. “It's time for our speech.”

“You are giving a speech?” Ben said after giving June one last kiss that he knew would be leaving a mark on her neck.

“We are, yes. Didn't June tell you about it? We are the bride's best friends.”

“English best friends” June corrected her.

“Whatever” Lauren said. “C'mon, they are waiting for us.”

“Ok, fine. I'm… Chilwell!” she yelped as she got up from her chair.

“Yes?” he said with an innocent smile.

“Did you just pinch my butt?”

“Maybe” he shrugged. “I already told you I can't keep my hands to myself, Maxwell. And that dress makes your bum look so peachy” he smirked.

“You two are disgusting. C'mon” Lauren said, grabbing June's arm and dragging her away from Ben before he tried something else.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“And that's how Vittoria became our best friend” Lauren smiled, the crowd still laughing at the anecdote.

“We love you, Vitto” June said.

“And I love you too!” she replied, wiping away a tear.

“But June, speaking of loving someone…” Lauren said. “I think there was something you wanted to say.”

“Oh, yes. Thank you” she said, taking the microphone. “So, as you all probably know because you saw us making out on live tv after we won the World Cup a few years ago, I'm dating this chap called Ben Chilwell. Chilly according to his friends. Though if my friends gave me that nickname, I would end our friendship right there. Chilly? Really?” June said, everyone laughing again. “Anyway… Besides seeing us kiss, you all probably heard me telling him that I loved him. Cute, I know” she smiled. “But what you don't know, is that that was the first time I was telling him those three words. I had tried a few times before, but someone or something always interrupted us. And to be honest, doing it the way I did and where I did it, makes it a better story to tell our grandchildren, doesn't it? And we could tell them more stories. Like, for example, that at first we couldn't stand each other and that he was my number one hater. I'm sure some of you still remember Ben's facts” she said, air quoting that last word and rolling her eyes. “Or how he scared the hell out of all of us when we thought he had had a heart attack, and it made me realize that I was in love with him. Or how we became girlfriend and boyfriend while flying over the Indian Ocean. As you can see, we like doing things our own way, and kind of go big or go home. And tonight, it won't be any different. So, Chilwell, could you please join me up here?” June said with her most charming smile. “C'mon, don't be shy.”

“I'll go fetch him” Lauren offered, all the guests looking at them.

“Hello” June smiled when they joined her on the little stage that had been set for the band that was playing later.

“Hi” Ben smiled back. “And what the fuck, Maxwell” he whispered while she kissed his cheek.

“You are blushing… cute” she whispered back.

“My face has been burning since you started talking about us and everyone was looking my way. What are you doing, June?”

“Patient, Chilwell” she smirked. “Could we please get a round of applause for my gorgeous boyfriend? He's a bit nervous.”

“June…” he hissed when everyone started clapping.

“Like I just said, in our relationship we don't do things the usual way. And on this occasion, it won't be any different. So” June said, giving the microphone back to Lauren while she gave her something else. Something small that fit in the palm of her hand. “Benjamin James Chilwell. Chilwell… Ben… Would you marry me?” she said, getting down on one knee and showing him what Lauren had given her: a little box with a ring inside it.

“June” he gasped. “I… I… Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, Maxwell. I will marry you.”

“Yay!” Lauren started clapping next to them while all the guests cheered, Ben helping June stand up so she would not ruin her dress. If someone was going to do that, it would be him when he took it off her.

“You are fucking crazy, Maxwell” he laughed while she put the ring on his finger.

“For you? Most definitely” she smiled. “I love you, Ben.”

“I love you too, June” he said before wrapping his arms around her and giving her one of those kisses you only see in movies, the cheers around them getting louder.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Now I understand it all” Ben said while staring at his ring.

“Understand what?” June said, moving to look at him.

After the proposal, getting greeted by their friends and basically everyone at the wedding, and celebrating by dancing until their feet hurt, they had finally retired to their room, where Ben had done what he had been dreaming of the whole day: be all over June. Though the part about ripping the dress out of her, hadn't actually happened.

They both had been so eager and desperate to be in each other's arms, that the moment they had crossed their room's door they hadn't bothered to take off their clothes. They had done it against the wall, June's dress wrapped around her waist, Ben still in his suit. It had been once they had gotten all that almost animalistic need and want out of their systems, that they had slowed down, whispering love words and kissing and caressing each other until no clothes were on their bodies, getting to properly enjoy the night.

“The way you have been behaving since Vittoria got engaged. You have been planning it all since then, haven't you? And the girls have helped you.”

“Yep” June smiled. “You weren't the only one who had started to think about taking the next step, Ben. Though unlike you, and in an unexpected turn of events, I was the one who was completely sure about her feelings, our relationship, and that I wanted to marry you.”

“Yeah” he chuckled. “I just… I don't know why I started to feel so insecure, why it got in my head the way it did. Because I also was sure about my feelings for you, our relationship, and that I wanted to marry you. But I… I don't know” he sighed.

“That's in the past, Ben” June said, caressing his cheek. “What matters now, is that we love each other and that we both are on the same page. That we both want to get married and spend the rest of our lives together.”

“We do” he smiled. “I can't wait to call you my wife.”

“And I can't wait to call you Mr. Maxwell.”

“What?” he laughed.

“If you think I'm going to change my last name, you are very wrong, Chilwell.”

“I'm not changing mine either, Maxwell.”

“It would be very cool, tho. And Benjamin Maxwell sounds lovely.”

“We can save that name for our first kid, then” he said, pulling her closer towards him.

“I'm not naming our kids after us, I'm sorry.”

“Why not? I love your name, it is so unique.”

“Then why do you call me Maxwell all the time, uh?” she asked with a teasing smile.

“I don't know. I guess it got stuck after always calling you like that on tv” he shrugged. “And you call me Chilwell all the time too.”

“Yes, but I do it to tease you” she grinned.

“Rude” Ben chuckled. “But if I change my last name to Maxwell, you won't be able to do it anymore. Think about it.”

“And I do love calling you Chilwell…”

“Then it is settled. No last name change.”

“No last name change for us. But…”

“But?”

“You just said that Benjamin Maxwell sounded nice for our kids. Does that mean that they will have my last name?” she smirked, moving even closer towards him.

“I'll think about it.”

“Is there anything I could do to help you think?” she said, her hand slowly moving from his chest all the way down to his belly button.

“That's cheating, June” Ben said, his body tensing under her touch.

“We haven't set any rules, so” she shrugged, her hand still moving down.

“We… fuck” Ben gasped.

“I think I have the winning hand here.”

“June!” he laughed. “But…” he said, moving to be on top of her and totally catching her by surprise. “I also have an ace in the hole. Well, almost.”

“Benjamin!” June said, also laughing.

“You started it all, Maxwell” he shrugged.

“I did, yes” she smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I love you, fiancé.”

“Is that your new nickname for me? Fiancé?”

“It has a nice ring to it too, don't you think? No pun intended.”

“It actually does, yes” Ben chuckled. “But I guess that from now on I'll have to say that I love you too… fiancée” he smiled before kissing her.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Good morning, fiancé.”

“Good morning” Ben smiled.

“Pepper, have I told you that he is my fiancé? This guy right here?” June said, hugging from behind and wrapping her arms around him. “This gorgeous man, is my fiancé, Pepper.”

“Meow” he replied, sat next to them waiting for Ben to maybe give him something to eat.

“I think he heard you the first time” Ben chuckled.

“Just in case he forgot” she shrugged.

“Keeping in mind that you are constantly reminding him and everyone that crosses paths with you that I am your fiancé…”

“Are you calling me annoying, Chilwell?”

“I would never dare, Maxwell.”

“Good” she said, resting her head on his shoulder while he kept making their breakfast. “But it isn't my fault I'm happy and want to share it with the world. Or my world at least, not the outside one. That one can wait.”

“And to think I believed you didn't want to marry me…” Ben said.

“You and your insecurities. I wonder who you got them from.”

“Right?” he laughed. “But they are gone, and aren't coming back. I swear it on my sneakers collection.”

“That's my boy. Wait, no. My fiancé” she corrected herself.

“A fiancé that won't be able to finish making you a delicious breakfast if you keep hugging him like that.”

“Don't you like it?” she asked, kissing the back of his neck.

“I love it, June. You know I do. But we also need to eat something that isn't the other” he smirked, moving on her arms until he was facing her.

“Shame” she sighed.

“We can do it later, tho.”

“I like how that sounds” she smirked back.

“Now why don't you go get the garden table ready? It's a glorious day, we should eat outside.”

“Ok… fiancé” June giggled before kissing Ben's nose and letting go of him, humming something to herself while Pepper followed her around and he just stared at her. “Chilwell, our breakfast.”

“Yes, our breakfast. Sorry” he smiled, giving her one last look and focusing on their food, thinking that he was the luckiest man alive.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“You know, if things as a manager don't work out, you should open a restaurant.”

“What?” Ben laughed.

“Or maybe a bed and breakfast. We could buy a small house somewhere in the countryside and turn it into one! You would cook, and I would take care of everything else.”

“Do you see yourself living in the countryside?”

“I actually do, yes” June smiled.

“You had never told me that.”

“It is a recent dream of mine. But I still have at least a couple of good years playing football before I have to start thinking about retiring and all that.”

“What would you call it?”

“Uh?”

“Your bed and breakfast. What would you call it? June's?” Ben asked her.

“What about… Chilly in June?” she laughed.

“That sounds too weird.”

“Maxwell and Chilwell?”

“Umm… It could work.”

“Does this mean that you are in? That you would move to the countryside with me?” she asked him.

“I would go to the end of the world with you, June” he smiled.

“Aww, Ben” she smiled back. “Though we've kind of done that already. We went to Australia together, remember?”

“We did, yes” he chuckled. “And I have something for you” he said when they managed to stop looking at each other like two idiots in love, which was what they actually were.

“For me?”

“For you” Ben said, giving her a Kinder egg.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you giving me one now?”

“Can't a fiancé give her fiancée a little present?” he chuckles.

“Of course he can. But this is like our thing after games, and the season hasn't started yet.”

“I know.”

“Then?”

“Then what?”

“Then why are you giving me this now?”

“Maxwell, can you please just accept it and stop asking so many questions?” he said, rolling his eyes.

“Ok, ok. Do you want half of it?”

“It's all yours, June.”

“Ummm…”

“What now?” Ben sighed.

“You are nervous” she said, opening the egg and following the same routine sh had since she was a little girl. First she would carefully unwrap it so the paper was as intact as possible. Then she would open it making sure each half was perfect and they didn't break, and after that, she would check the surprise before eating the chocolate.

“I'm not nervous” he chuckled.

“Yes, you are, Chilwell. Is there something I should know?”

“What?”

“I think there is something going on, something you aren't telling. Something… Ben” June gasped when she opened the surprise. “What… This… You…”

“This had been my plan all along, you know?” he said. “To ask you to marry me like this, in our garden after making and eating breakfast together, and with the ring inside a Kinder egg surprise. I wanted it to happen in the place where we fell in love, in our home. But you, Miss Maxwell, had other plans and beat me to it” he chuckled.

“I… sorry?”

“It's ok” he said, taking the ring. “May I still do it?”

“Do what?”

“Ask you to marry me, June. I know we already are engaged, but…”

“Yes.”

“I haven't asked yet, Maxwell” he smirked.

“Oh, shut up and just do it, Chilwell” she replied, rolling her eyes.

“Ok” he said, still smirking as he got down on one knee. “June Elizabeth Maxwell. Would you do me the immense honour of becoming my wife?”

“Yes. Yes, yes and yes!” she said, jumping at him and hugging him.

“June!” he said as they both fell down.

“Shit. Are you ok?”

“I am, don't worry” he chuckled, sitting up and making June do the same on his lap. “May I?”

“Please” she said, extending her hand.

“Perfect. Do you like it?”

“I love it, Ben. And I love you. I love so very much.”

“I love you too, June” he said. And as he leaned forward to kiss her… “Pepper!”

“Meow!” the cat said, jumping to sit between them.

“That's his way of giving you his blessing” she laughed.

“Well, thank you very much, sir. May I now kiss my future wife? My fiancée?”

“Meow!” Pepper replied before jumping again and starting to run after a butterfly.

“I think that's a yes.”

“If that's the case… Were was I?”

“You were about to kiss me… fiancé.”

“Oh, yes. Thank you… fiancée” he smiled before finally kissing June.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

A year (or so) later...

“I still can't believe this is how they've decided to do it” Mason said.

“What is wrong with it?” Reece asked.

“Nothing, but… I don't know. Didn't June say that they are like, go big or go home with important moments in their relationship?”

“Yeah.”

“Then why are they getting married… here?” Mason said, looking around.

“I think it is cute. This place means a lot to them, it is where they fell in love.”

“Yes, but… They are getting married in their house, Reece. In their garden.” And it had all been June's idea.

She and Ben had spent months looking at venues all around the country and even some in France and Spain during their holidays, but none of them had felt right. Not until during a lovely spring day, June found what they were looking for.

They had been sitting on the sofas they had in the garden, Ben resting his head on her lap while going through some notes from his manager school like she liked calling it, and June running her hand through his hair and keeping an eye on Pepper, who was trying to catch a lizard. And in that moment, surrounded by all the flowers Ben had so meticulously planted and taken care of over the years, the smell from the lunch they had cooked together still in the air, she had felt it: happiness. Pure bliss.

Life could freeze in that moment, repeat over and over again as if they were stuck in a loop, and she would still feel like the luckiest woman in the world.

That garden… their garden… was the perfect place to celebrate their love. After all, it had been where it all had started.

“There you are” Leah said, walking towards Mason and Reece. “They are ready, it's time.”

“Can't believe we are about to witness June and Ben getting married” Reece said.

“You tell me” she chuckled. “Anyway, ready to walk me down the aisle, Mount?”

“Yes, ma'am” Mason smiled, offering Leah his arm. After them, Reece and Lauren also were getting ready to walk into the garden, Vittoria and John behind them, Pepper chilling in his arms.

That had been one of the pros June had told Ben while trying to convince him to get married in the garden: Pepper could be with them.

“Are you nervous?” Ben's mum asked him as they went down the stairs, Mason and Leah already outside, Reece and Lauren following them.

“You have no idea” he said with a nervous laugh. “Did you get to see her?”

“I did.”

“And?”

“She looks breathtaking, Ben. You'll see for yourself in just a minute.”

“If she hasn't run away…”

“Benjamin!” his mum said, hitting his arm.

“I'm joking, I’m joking” he laughed. “I know she isn't going anywhere. She can't. Because like I’m saying on my vows, my heart belongs to her just as hers belongs to me.”

“Aww, Benny” she smiled. “Ready?” she asked when they made it to the door.

“Ready” he nodded, taking a deep breath and stepping outside, all their guests smiling at him while Mason, Leah, Reece, Lauren, Vittoria, John and the officiant waited for him next to the arch of flowers at the end of the garden, Pepper already chilling on his favorite bed next to it.

“Relax, bro” he heard Mason say behind him once he joined them, his mum sitting next to June’s parents and trying not to cry. Again. She had already done it a few times while they were getting ready, especially when he had shown her that he was going to wear the same tie his dad had worn on their wedding day. “This way he will also be with me on the most important day of my life” he had told her.

“I'm…” relaxed. That was what Ben would have liked to say. But the music had changed, and everyone was looking at the door that led to the garden, at the two people who were walking through it: June and her dad. “Bloody hell” he whispered, his eyes fixed on June. She looked… she… she was… She…

“Hello, Chilwell” she smiled when she joined him.

“Breathtaking.”

“What?”

“My mum was right. You look breathtaking, June” he finally managed to say.

“Thank you” she replied, feeling her cheeks get warmer and warmer by the second. Ben had called her any synonym of beautiful you could think of since they had gotten together, but he had never done it while looking at her the way he was in that moment: in complete awe.

“I thought you said your dress could rival Princess Diana's. What happened?” he asked.

“It got lost somewhere” she shrugged. “Don't you like this one? Lauren said it fits me just like my Versace one but in white and longer” she said, looking down at it. It was a very simple white dress, it didn't have anything special. But Lauren's comment had stuck with her even after trying on others, which according to her mum meant that it was the one.

“And she's not wrong” Ben said, remembering how good June had looked the first time he had seen her wearing that dress. How smoking hot she looked. “Is that why you are wearing the same hairpins?” he asked, nodding towards her hair.

“You've noticed!” she smiled, touching them.

“Of course I have, Maxwell. I remember every single detail of how you looked that night. And after today” he said, taking a step closer towards her. “I will also remember every single detail of how breathtaking you are looking right now.”

“Ben…” she whispered, also moving forward.

“Ahem” the officiant said when June's hand touched Ben's face. “The kiss is for later. You aren't married yet.”

“Sorry” they both apologised, moving back to their positions.

“May I start?” the officiant asked them.

“You may” Ben said. “And sorry. Again.”

“It's ok” he said before starting with the ceremony, one where June and Ben didn't stop looking at each other. Not when Pepper let out a big meow that made everyone laugh, and especially not when they said their vows. Though through the corner of her eye, June noticed Reece asking his sister for a handkerchief and wiping away some tears. “I pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride” the officiant said.

“Finally” Ben smiled before wrapping his arms around June and kissing her, everyone clapping and cheering. “I love you, June” he said against her lips. “Or should I say wife? Because that's what you are now, Maxwell. You are my wife. Did you hear that, guys? June Maxwell is my wife!”

“Chilwell!” she said while hitting his arm, everyone laughing.

“What? It is the truth. You are my wife, Maxwell” he smirked.

“I know. And in case you've forgotten, you are my husband. And I love you.”

“Say that again, please.”

“What?”

“The last three words. After all these years, I still am not used to hearing you saying them” Ben teased her.

“Idiot” she laughed.

“Yet you love me” he said, pulling her even closer towards him.

“I do. I love you very much… husband” June smiled.

“And I love you too, wife” he smiled back before kissing her again, more cheers and some meows surrounding them.

#ben chilwell #ben chilwell fanfic #ben chilwell imagine #football fanfic #football imagine

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